


Pretty Boy

by SerenityStargazer



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Pretty Woman (1990)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pretty Woman Fusion, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale to the rescue!, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Brief mention of abortion, Bubble bath together, Coming out is hard to do, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley gets the Bentley, Different Worlds, Fabulous clothes!, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Gabriel gets what's coming to him, Gabriel is a Prick, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Musical References, Romance, Sex worker shaming, The bookshop, Violence, homophobia mention, naughty selfies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityStargazer/pseuds/SerenityStargazer
Summary: Aziraphale Fell, real estate tycoon, finds himself in need of a companion during a business week in London. He meets Crowley in Soho and finds he enjoys the younger sex worker's company. They spend the week together and both are surprised to find themselves falling in love."Hey, handsome," Crowley purred, "want a date?""Right now," the blond man replied in a very proper, educated accent, "what I need are directions to the Ritz. Got myself turned around, I'm afraid.""Five pounds for directions, luv," Crowley said calmly."Five pounds? That's ridiculous!" the man sputtered indignantly."Ten pounds. The price just went up.""You can't charge me for directions!"Crowley grinned. "I can do whatever I want, angel. I'm not lost." He stood up and turned his back, letting his arse lean against the window frame."Oh, very well," the man said, pulling out his wallet. Crowley opened the door and climbed in."For a twenty, I'll take you there personally," he offered.Aziraphale handed the twenty over silently then tried to find first gear.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 311
Kudos: 351
Collections: Good Omens Rom Com Event





	1. Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Most of you will know this story. I was surprised how well it fit our guys. I've set it in modern times instead of the 90s because there is more acceptance of Crowley's gender fluidity now than back then. I hope you enjoy!

Aziraphale Fell opened the French doors and stepped out into the early evening spring air, breathing in the scents of London around him. He closed his eyes for a moment and listened to the soft murmur of voices as people chatted and smoozed and laughed at unfunny jokes throughout the beautifully landscaped garden belonging to Aziraphale's lawyer, Gabriel Archer. Gabriel had thrown the party to welcome him to London for the week as he worked a small miracle to convince the last holdout to sell and sealed the deal they'd been working on for months. It was time to put on his people-face and go work some magic.

He took a deep cleansing breath and let his party smile settle on his round face. He straightened his tartan bow tie and ran his hands down the front of his already impeccable cream jacket. Satisfied all his psychological armor was in place, he started across the garden. He shook hands with the men and air-kissed the cheeks of the women. Occasionally, he would do a little magic to charm the crowd - pulling coins from behind the ear of this one, making a handful of coins disappear from the palm of that one. He enjoyed sleight-of-hand and it tended to put people at ease around him. It also made them underestimate him, thinking him sweet but a bit daft. This had come in useful for many a business deal, as they never saw the shark lurking in his depths until it was too late.

Although he seemed to simply wander through the small clusters of people aimlessly, Aziraphale did have a goal in mind. Gabriel could be a pain about many things, but he had a knack for finding the best caterers. Aziraphale's wandering took him ever closer to the food tables. His solid frame was probably carrying a few more pounds than necessary, but it added to his air of grandfatherly charm. And, at almost 50, he was tired of doing what he should all the time. So he looked over the dessert table with glee, picking out a fruit tart with strawberries, a cream puff dipped in dark chocolate, and a slice of lemon cake garnished with fresh blueberries. He turned to find a place to enjoy his treats, only to run into Gabriel.

"Gabriel! So good to see you. Lovely party, my dear," Aziraphale said with more enthusiasm than he felt. The brash, dark-haired lawyer from the States always made him feel ill-at-ease. He was excellent at writing up iron-clad sales contracts, though, and Aziraphale had prospered during their association the last six years. Sometimes, when Gabriel was being particularly obnoxious, it felt more like six thousand, but business relationships could be that way.

"Only the best for our angelic miracle worker," the taller man smirked and ruffled Aziraphale's short pale curls. Cheek!

"I have a meeting set up with Shadwell and his nephew for tomorrow morning," Gabriel blustered on. "The old man insisted he wanted to get to know you before he would finalize the deal, so I also made reservations for four at the Ritz for tomorrow evening."

"For four?" Aziraphale asked. "Will you also be joining us, Gabriel?"

"No," Gabriel replied with that smug smile back on his face. "Shadwell wants you to bring a date. Claims you can learn a lot about a man by the company he keeps."

"A date? B-b-but I don't know anyone in London!" Aziraphale was appalled and a bit flustered. "Is he aware that I'm...well…"

"That you're gay? Of course. It isn't exactly a secret since your very public breakup with Michael last year," Gabriel answered. "It's not a problem. Bring whomever you like. Well, preferably someone who will make a good impression on Shadwell."

"But who?" Aziraphale was beside himself.

"Not my department," Gabriel replied. "You know, Aziraphale, getting a date might not be such a problem if you laid off the sweets and hit the gym." He looked pointedly at Aziraphale's plate and then his stomach. "You're a warrior, right? A lean, mean, fighting machine!"

That was quite enough, Aziraphale decided. He set the plate down on the table. "Perhaps you are right, Gabriel. Tell me, did you purchase that vintage Bentley you were looking at?"

Gabriel puffed up a bit and preened. "I did, actually. Would you like to see it?"

"Oh, very much so," Aziraphale said. "Bring the keys so I can hear how it runs?"

Ten minutes later, Gabriel stood with his mouth open, watching his vintage Bentley jerk away with the blond real estate tycoon at the helm. "But...but...the Ritz is the other way!" he protested faintly to no one at all.

________________________________________ 

The alarm beeped louder and louder until Crowley finally snaked one long, wiry arm out to smack it into silence. With a groan he opened his honey-brown eyes and stretched his long frame out till his feet were hanging off the bottom of the twin bed. He ran a hand through his shoulder-length fiery curls and sat up. Time to get ready for work. Dark was edging out the day and Soho was rubbing the sleep from its eyes, ready to party through the night once more.

After a sadly quick shower to save on the water bill, Crowley prepared for his night. He put his hair back in a French braid so it lay close to his head, giving the illusion of short hair. He pulled on his favorite work shirt - a filmy fine black mesh with two serpents embroidered on the front; they traveled up his sides, curving around his nipples, the heads coming together near the neck line.. He had rescued it from a dumpster when the previous owner had ripped one of the long sleeves. Crowley had removed the sleeves entirely, lined the holes with black satin trim, and made it his signature piece. Then came a black satin g-string that was more zipper protection for his bits than actual pants. He tucked his shirt snugly into a tight pair of black denim booty shorts that proclaimed "JUICY" on the backside in red. They did marvelous things for his arse. He pulled on some black thigh highs and black boots that hit above his knees. Some eyeliner, red lipstick, and mascara and he was ready to hit the streets.

As he started down the stairs from his tiny second floor flat, he saw his landlord arguing with another tenant about rent. Shit. He ducked back upstairs and double checked the cash box in the bathroom closet. As he thought, he was still several hundred short. Well, maybe he would get lucky tonight with a few good clients. But for now...he opened the window and quietly climbed down the fire escape.

Out on the street, he checked his hair and makeup, slipping on his favorite shades and a waist-length black satiny jacket. He got a few catcalls from the cars passing by, but no one serious. Then he heard a throaty rubble punctuated with the jarring squeal of a transmission being severely abused. Chasing the sound, he watched as an old black Bentley in pristine condition jerked to a halt a little past him.

He put on a cocky grin and sauntered up to the car. The windows were down and he leaned in, making sure his arse was popped up appealingly. The gent inside was cute, but looked rather flustered.

"Hey, handsome," Crowley purred, "want a date?"

"Right now," the blond man replied in a very proper, educated accent, "what I need are directions to the Ritz. Got myself turned around, I'm afraid."

"Five pounds for directions, luv," Crowley said calmly.

"Five pounds? That's ridiculous!" the man sputtered indignantly.

"Ten pounds. The price just went up."

"You can't charge me for directions!"

Crowley grinned. "I can do whatever I want, angel. I'm not lost." He stood up and turned his back, letting his arse lean against the window frame.

"Oh, very well," the man said, pulling out his wallet. Crowley opened the door and climbed in. 

"For a twenty, I'll take you there personally," he offered.

Aziraphale handed the twenty over silently then tried to find first gear.

"Bentleys can be tricky," Crowley offered. "My mate's dad had one back home. He taught us how to drive it. It has pedals like a race car."

"You know how to drive this beast?" Aziraphale asked in amazement. When Crowley nodded, he said, "Alright then, let's change and you can drive me to the Ritz instead." Twenty pounds and he got to drive a Bentley? The night was shaping up nicely!

The man looked startled as Crowley peeled out into traffic, but settled down as Crowley smoothly shifted gears and wove expertly through the other cars.

"What is your name, my dear?" he asked, looking at his long throat and strong jawline. And those cheekbones! Aziraphale thought he had never been in a car with a man quite this handsome before.

"What do you want it to be?," Crowley asked coyly.

Aziraphale just looked and waited.

"Crowley," he said seriously. "My name is Crowley."

They chatted for a bit. Then Aziraphale asked, "How much do you get paid, my dear? Just curious.”

"Two hunrded-fifty," Crowley said blithely. As if that wasn't what he usually made in an entire weekend.

"Two hundred and fifty pounds per night?!" Aziraphale was astounded.

"Two hundred and fifty per hour," Crowley corrected. The man obviously had money and Crowley needed to make rent.

"That is pretty stiff," Aziraphale said, thinking hard.

Crowley reached his hand over and cupped the man's groin, squeezing gently and feeling things begin to perk up. "Not yet," he quipped. "But it has potential." Aziraphale glared at him and Crowley put his hand back on the steering wheel with a small smirk. That twitch in his hand told him the guy was definitely interested. Yep. This was shaping up to be a great evening.

They got out in front of the Ritz and Aziraphale handed the keys to the valet. Aziraphale stood looking awkwardly at Crowley, not sure what to do next. "Will you be alright, my dear?" he asked quietly.

"Sure, angel," Crowley replied with a grin. "I'll just grab a cab back."

"Back to your office?" Aziraphale teased with a smile.

"Yeah," Crowley agreed with a grin. "Back to my office. See ya, angel." Crowley sauntered away to the bus stop bench a few yards away, letting his hips lead the way and gambling that the man was still watching. He perched on the back of the bench and stretched out his long legs, tugging the stockings back up into place. A few raindrops started to fall and Crowley turned up his collar, showing a pop of bright red on the underside.

A moment later, an umbrella moved over his head to shelter him. It was white and almost glowed in the streetlight.

"I was wondering. If you don't have any prior engagements, would you consider accompanying me to my room?" Aziraphale inquired quietly. His heart was racing in his chest. He had never done this before, but he needed a date and the younger man was charming and quite captivating.

"No prior engagements. Be glad to accompany you." Crowley slid his body slowly off the bench and stood next to the man so they both fit under the umbrella. "What's your name, angel?" he asked.

He hesitated a moment, then said, "Aziraphale."

Crowley took off his glasses and stared at him, his eyes wide and golden in the streetlight. "Aziraphale?" he asked in wonder. "Like the angel? The principality?"

"Why, yes. Not many people know of him nowadays. How do you?" Aziraphale was surprised and a bit impressed. Crowley was full of surprises it seemed.

"Art student," Crowley replied, feeling a bit shy. "I was obsessed with angels back in school. Used to study up on them and paint them in modern day settings. Aziraphale was the Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden. Had a flaming sword and everything!"

"Well," Aziraphale replied with a small smile, "I might be flaming, but no sword, I'm afraid."

Crowley let his grin grow. "Oh, I don't know about that, angel." He let his eyes drift to the slight bulge in the man's trousers. "Like I said. Potential."


	2. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I really appreciate this seduction thing you've got going here, handsome, but you have to know, I'm a sure thing. And I am on the clock, so…." Crowley said with another grin. Surely it was illegal to be so dashingly good looking, Aziraphale thought.
> 
> "I sense the money issue is a problem for you," he said thoughtfully. "I'd like to settle it now. How much for you to spend the whole night?"
> 
> "Stay until morning?" Crowley looked surprised and then pursed his lips appraising the proposition. "It would be expensive. Don't think you could afford it."
> 
> "Try me," Aziraphale said quietly.
> 
> What the hell, Crowley thought. Might as well shoot the moon. "A thousand pounds."
> 
> "Done," said Aziraphale firmly, pulling the bills from his wallet. Stunned, Crowley reached up and took his month's rent from Aziraphale's soft, well-manicured hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit late. Sorry about that. No excuses; the author just has really bad time management skills.
> 
> This is where the story starts to earn its E rating. If you prefer to skip the sex, there are divides that set that section off. Just skip from the first divide to the second and you'll be fine.

As they headed towards the hotel, Aziraphale paused for a moment, removed his long cream-colored wool overcoat, and placed it around Crowley's shoulders 

"What's this for?" Crowley asked, though he couldn't resist snuggling the coat around him. It felt so soft and smelled so good. Would Aziraphale be this soft? Did he smell this good? Crowley found himself longing to find out, and that was bad.  _ It's just a gig _ , he reminded himself sternly.

"Well," Aziraphale said with a small, apologetic smile, "the Ritz is not the sort of place that rents rooms by the hour. After you, my dear." He placed his hand at the small of Crowley's back and guided him into the Ritz's lobby.

Crowley opened his mouth to make a wisecrack, but then they entered the lobby and his joke was silenced before a syllable was uttered. The creamy plaster walls glowed golden in the light of the wall sconces. The red and gold rugs told stories of class and money, romance and secrets, whispering through the years. Elegantly dressed men and women drifted by, engaged in quiet conversations. Feeling a bit subdued, Crowley followed Aziraphale closely as he went to the front desk for his key and messages. As Aziraphale spoke quietly to the clerk, Crowley looked around, straightened his shoulders, and covered himself with his usual cloak of bravado and insolence. He had been wearing it for years and it suited him better than the creamy wool overcoat anyway. He stopped holding the lapels and let the coat open to show his mesh shirt and shorts. Let the gentry stare if they wanted; he was comfortable with himself and if they didn't like it, tough.

Aziraphale finished his business at the front desk and turned to cup Crowley's elbow and lead him to the elevators. His eyes swept down Crowley's front, but there was nothing but soft admiration in his face. It made Crowley feel...appreciated. He smiled slowly back, little sparks tingling his skin through the wool coat where Aziraphale's gentle hand touched him.

There was an older couple waiting for the elevators when they got there. The gentleman smiled warmly at him, but his wife looked him up and down, her lips tight and judgment radiating off her. Crowley's happy evaporated and he decided to return the favor.

"Oh, honey," he cooed to Aziraphale, "I think my mobile is vibrating!" He lifted his foot up and planted it on the waist-high metal dustbin between the elevator doors. Pushing aside the coat, he stroked his hand slowly along his arse, as if looking for his phone pocket, looking steadily at the couple.

"Oops!" he giggled, "silly me! My phone is in my boot!" He straightened his leg and bent his body down to where his nose almost touched his knee, slowly unzipping the boot and pulling out his phone. "Hmm...wrong number!" he declared, returning the phone, zipping the boot, and standing back up in one smooth motion. He looked at the staring couple and winked at them, wrinkling his nose.

Aziraphale leaned up and whispered, "You are a menace, foul fiend!" as the elevator doors opened. But his eyes twinkled in amusement and Crowley just grinned at him. Going in, he was surprised to find a settee in the elevator, and flopped gracefully down, perching one foot on the seat, spreading his legs wide, and proclaiming, "Look, honey, room enough for two!" Aziraphale rolled his eyes and gestured for the couple to enter. The man started forward, but his wife grabbed his arm and silently shook her head. Aziraphale smirked a bit, but turned his back so Crowley couldn't see it as Aziraphale moved next to the elevator operator.

"I couldn't help it!" Crowley protested as the doors shut.

"Try!" said Aziraphale quietly, but without much bite. "Penthouse, please," he said to the operator, who was covering a laugh with a pretend cough.

Aziraphale pretended not to see the knowing grin the operator gave them both as they left for their room. But when he tried to insert the room key, the lights refused to change to green, leaving him feeling rather flustered.

"Here, Angel. Let me get that for you," Crowley said, holding out his hand. "Just have to know the right angle," he said with a grin and a wink.

"I miss real keys," Aziraphale said sadly, oblivious to the red-head's double meaning.

"Oh," Crowley continued happily, " so you're more of an insert," and he poked the air in front of him with two fingers, "and twist kind of bloke?" He twisted the two fingers as he inserted the room card, opening it with ease. Watching Crowley's long, thin fingers twist made things below twitch in interest, and Aziraphale's ears blushed pink.

"Quite so," he mumbled, pushing the door open and letting Crowley enter first while he regained his composure. Crowley walked in and let his amazement show through for a minute as he took in the muted green and cream stripes of the wallpaper, the gleaming wood of the furniture, and the soft glow from the elegant lighting.

He walked further in and explored while saying, "Just so you know, Angel, I have been here before. Often. And they do rent it by the hour."

Aziraphale just hummed, watching Crowley while setting a stack of messages on the work desk. Crowley went out through the French doors onto the balcony and gasped. "Quite a view out here, Aziraphale. You can even see the Eye!"

"I'll take your word for it, my dear. I have no intention of ever going out there."

"Scared of heights?" Crowley asked. "Seems odd for an angel."

"More like a fear of falling," Aziraphale answered. "As a child, I was playing with my best friend on the cliffs at the beach. One moment he was laughing and teasing me. The next, he was gone, falling to his doom."

"I'm sorry, Aziraphale," Crowley said softly, shutting the door behind him. "Why do you get the penthouse then?"

"It's the best," he replied simply. "I've tried looking for ground floor penthouses, but to no avail."

Crowley took off the soft coat and laid it carefully on the sofa so it wouldn't wrinkle. He turned back to Aziraphale, who was sitting at the desk watching him intently. "So. Now that you've got me here, what do you want to do with me?" he asked with a grin, a hand running lightly down his chest as he cocked his hip.

"I actually have no idea, my dear," the blond man chuckled, undoing his bow tie. “I hadn’t really thought this through. I am without a plan.”

“Do you plan everything?” Crowley asked.

“Oh, yes. I have a plan for every day and every thing in that day,” he replied with great assurance.

“Oh. Yeah. Me, too,” Crowley said hastily. “Well...actually no. I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants type of guy.”

Silence filled the room as Aziraphale sat at the work desk and opened his laptop.

"Well," Crowley said, "you could pay me. That would be a good start."

"Oh, yes. Yes, of course. What was I thinking?" Aziraphale looked flustered and Crowley thought he looked adorable.  _ No! _ He told himself with a shake of his head. _ Just a job. Definitely not adorable! _

Aziraphale took out his wallet. "Will cash do?" ha asked, pulling out five notes.

"Cash is great," Crowley said and sauntered over to the desk. He collected the £250 and tucked it into his boot while grabbing a few different colored foil packs. He sat on the edge of the desk as Aziraphale sat back down.

"What's your pleasure, handsome?" he purred. "I've got red and blue and black and one very special gold one left, the condom of champions, guaranteed not to break or let anything leak."

"A veritable safety banquet," Aziraphale said, his river-blue eyes wide as possibilities danced in his imagination.

"I'm a safety guy," Crowley said, fanning them in his hand like cards for Aziraphale to choose. Aziraphale lifted his hand to pick when there was a knock at the door, startling them both.

"Oh," said Aziraphale, “that will be room service. I took the liberty of ordering us champagne and strawberries. I do hope that is alright with you."

He started to stand, but Crowley put a hand on his shoulder. "Let me get it. Make myself useful. I'm not just a pretty face, ya know." He left the condoms on the desk and swayed his way to the door. Aziraphale's eyes locked on his hips and arse, feeling himself blush again. Oh the thoughts Crowley put in his head!

After room service left the treats, Aziraphale walked over and poured them each a glass of the golden wine and handed one to Crowley, who was lounging on the step down to the living room.. "Thanks, handsome," he said with a grin. "To angels unaware!"

"And the demons who tempt them!" Aziraphale responded with a grin of his own. Clinking the flutes together, Aziraphale sipped his champagne, only to stare as Crowley chugged his entire glass in one long gulp!

"Um...strawberry?" he asked weakly, holding out the chilled silver bowl.

"Why?" Crowley asked as he took a berry, looking puzzled.

"It's supposed to bring out the flavors of the champagne," Aziraphale explained, setting the bowl down and taking one for himself.

"Oh. Cool," Crowley said. He wrapped his lips around the berry and sucked. Aziraphale was transfixed, watching and imagining. Crowley looked at him wickedly, bit the entire berry from its greens with a flash of white teeth, and licked the juice from his lips. Aziraphale gulped and quickly downed his champagne.

"So, Aziraphale...got a boyfriend? Husband?" Crowley asked, holding out his flute for a refill.

"No, actually. Quite single, I'm afraid. Had a rather nasty breakup a year back and retired myself from affairs of the heart."

"Hmmm," Crowley murmured as he sprawled his long legs out. "You were lucky I was in the area."

"Well, I suppose I am," Aziraphale mused.

"I really appreciate this seduction thing you've got going here, handsome, but you have to know, I'm a sure thing. And I am on the clock, so…." Crowley said with another grin. Surely it was illegal to be so dashingly good looking, Aziraphale thought.

"I sense the money issue is a problem for you," he said thoughtfully. "I'd like to settle it now. How much for you to spend the whole night?"

"Stay until morning?" Crowley looked surprised and then pursed his lips appraising the proposition. "It would be expensive. Don't think you could afford it."

"Try me," Aziraphale said quietly.

_ What the hell _ , Crowley thought.  _ Might as well shoot the moon _ . "A thousand pounds."

"Done," said Aziraphale firmly, pulling the bills from his wallet. Stunned, Crowley reached up and took his month's rent from Aziraphale's soft, well-manicured hand.

"Now, my dear, I have a few business matters to attend to before I can give you the undivided attention you so richly deserve. There's a telly and a mini fridge in the next room. Feel free to make yourself at home and I'll be done in two shakes of a lamb's tail!" He reached down a hand to help Crowley stand and Crowley was surprised at the strength those soft-looking hands possessed. He grinned at the man with his halo of blond curls and asked, "Is it alright if I take my boots off, Angel?"

"Of course, my dear!"

With that, Crowley turned his back to Aziraphale and stretched down, showing his tight cheeks to their best advantage. Aziraphale couldn't help but stare. Oh, how he wanted to run his hands over that arse!

Crowley looked up at him over his shoulder, enjoying the effect he was having on his client. "Two shakes of a lamb's tail, hmm?" he asked as he shook his arse as he stood up.

"You, sir, are no lamb!" Aziraphale said with a laugh. "You are an absolutely devastating disaster!"

Crowley grinned delightedly as he put his boots by the sofa. He walked over to Aziraphale and stroked his cheek. "Don't be too long, Angel. I'll be waiting." He arched an eyebrow and sauntered off to the den. Aziraphale took a moment and adjusted himself so he could sit back down at the desk. He turned on his laptop and hoped he could make it through his emails quickly. The evening promised to be much more fun than he had anticipated that morning!

________________________________________

It took him almost an hour to finish up. His mind kept drifting, thinking of flame-red hair, a devilish grin and a body you could bounce a pence off. He finally gave it up, reasoning he could take a break with Crowley and then work into the wee hours of the morning. His people didn't care when he did his work, really. Long as it got done.

He paused at the arch leading to the den to look in first. The only light on was the soft glow from a side table lamp. Crowley was sprawled on the floor in just his shirt and shorts. He laid on his stomach, his legs bent at the knees and his feet waving about and rubbing each other as he watched some American show...a comedy about some older women, it seemed. Crowley giggled at something they said and Aziraphale couldn't help but smile. It was nice to see someone truly enjoy themselves.

He crossed the room silently and sat in an overstuffed armchair, still watching Crowley. Crowley looked up as he sat down. "I haven't ever seen this one," he explained and went back to watching. Aziraphale used the time to trace his eyes along the sharp profile, with high cheekbones, a long hawkish nose, and just a hint of dimples when he smiled. His arms were bare and his back covered in just a filmy black mesh. He had such a long back; supple like a snake. He wondered if it had influenced Crowley's choice of tattoo - a small curling snake in front of his right ear. And, oh, that arse! Aziraphale sighed a bit in longing, and Crowley glanced up to see he was being watched.

Crowley grabbed the remote and switched off the show. He stood up and stretched, amber eyes watching Aziraphale watch him. Want him. He unbuttoned his fly and carefully pulled the delicate shirt up and off, tossing it on the couch opposite of Aziraphale's chair. He shimmied out of the shorts as he walked over to the waiting man in the chair. Crowley grabbed a throw pillow from the other chair and tossed it on the floor in front of Aziraphale.

He stood there in front of Aziraphale with only the tiny black g-string on. It no longer covered his rising interest, the tip peeking out near his hip. "What do you want to do, Angel?" he asked as he reached down to unbutton Aziraphale's shirt.

"What do you do?" Aziraphale asked breathlessly.

"Oh, I do everything," he assured him, standing up and reaching into his pants to pull out his cock and stroke it slowly. "But I don't kiss on the mouth. Too personal for...business."

"Oh, good lord," Aziraphale said, staring at the beauty in front of him. "I mean, me neither. With the mouth kissing and all."

Crowley smiled and knelt on the pillow. He rubbed his palm up Aziraphale's erection through his suit trousers and Aziraphale groaned, whimpering when Crowley stopped. "Don't want to ruin your clothes, sugar. Let's get you undone, hmm?" Aziraphale nodded and shrugged off his shirt and braces, tugging his vest over his head. Crowley folded them neatly and put them on the other chair. He took a moment to admire Aziraphale, running his fingers through the short blond curls on his chest. He dropped his cheek onto Aziraphale's tummy and licked the golden trail that disappeared into his trousers. Aziraphale wiggled impatiently. Crowley chuckled and sat back up to undo Aziraphale's flies. He scooted Aziraphale down the chair a bit and pulled his trousers and pants down to his ankles.

Aziraphale's cock bobbed up, freed from the clothing, thick and ruddy and already leaking. "Oh, Angel," Crowley breathed. "May I have a lick?"

Aziraphale whined, "Yes, please! Please do, my dear!"

Crowley flattened his tongue and licked him from root to tip and Aziraphale shuddered at the electric warmth sparking up his shaft. When Crowley swirled his tongue around the tip, licking up the precum, Aziraphale couldn't help the jerk of his hips, desperate for more. Crowley gave a deep-throated chuckle and swallowed his cock down as he held Aziraphale's hips firmly.

"Oh, God, Crowley! That's...fuck!...so, so good!" There was an edge in Aziraphale's voice that said he was oh so close to coming, so Crowley reluctantly pulled off and stood up, pushing his own damp black satin down and kicking them off.

He straddled Aziraphale's lap and they both groaned from the heat when their cocks met. Crowley buried his hands in Aziraphale's soft pale gold curls and held him tight as he ground them together.

"Aziraphale. Angel. What do you want?" he panted.

"Fuck, Crowley! Want to be in you. Need you…." Aziraphale froze.

"Oh," he wailed, "the condoms! I forgot all about the condoms!"

Crowley smirked and leaned over to the side table. "Perish," he murmured. "Don't fret, Angel. I've got you covered." With a flourish, he held up the gold condom and a small tube of lube. He slipped back to the floor and removed Aziraphales’s shoes and clothes. With the clothing gone, he positioned himself in between those plump thighs dusted with gold and tore the condom pack open. He checked to make sure Aziraphale was watching and popped the condom in his mouth. Aziraphale gasped as Crowley took his cock in his mouth, smoothly rolling the condom down as he went. When the condom was fully on, Crowley slicked it with some lube and wiggled back to straddle Aziraphale again.

"I'm a professional, Angel," he said with a wink. "Don't try this at home! Now. Where were we? Oh, yes." He snapped his hips, grinding them back together. He reached back with lube-slicked fingers, preparing himself while building up a rhythm with his hips. Aziraphale moaned and encircled their cocks together with his strong, soft hand and then Crowley was moaning right along with him.

"Oh, Angel, fuck! Fuck me, Aziraphale!" Crowley lifted up and Aziraphale guided him onto his cock. Crowley burned and glowed from the stretch and the warmth of it. As he sank farther and farther down, he felt like he might explode from pleasure. Then he was all the way down and Aziraphale was fucking up into him and holy hell it felt so good!

"Crowley. So good. So gorgeous. So, so hot!" Aziraphale's voice cracked a bit and he pulled Crowley close, one hand deep in the flame of his hair, the other embedded in that firm arse cheek he'd been dying to touch.

Crowley reached between them, stroking his cock quickly as Aziraphale used his grip to slam into him, sparking his prostate with each thrust. His head dropped back, exposing the long line of his throat. Aziraphale couldn't resist and bit along the taunt side muscle, barely keeping enough control to not draw blood. Crowley keened and came, his body shaking from the force of his climax. As he tightened around Aziraphale, the blond released his bite so he could yell Crowley's name as he came and came; the world fading to white and Crowley's whine the only sound he could hear.

________________________________________

After Crowley washed up, Aziraphale went in for a shower. He found himself humming happily and laughed at his own silliness. It was just sex. Tomorrow Crowley would be off with someone else, making them feel as blessed as he did tonight. He would miss that devilish grin and snarky humor.

Then an idea crossed his mind. Perhaps he could keep Crowley around for a bit. Gabriel had insisted he get a date for tomorrow's business dinner. He thought about what Crowley would look like in a suit, and oh, he wanted to see that.

He dried off and pulled on his pyjamas, sure he could persuade the younger man to stick around and accompany him for the week. Crowley needed money and Aziraphale had more than enough.

He quietly walked through the bedroom, intending on returning to the desk and his work. He paused to look down at Crowley, already asleep in the bed. He had taken his braid out and his ginger hair fell in soft waves down past his shoulders. Aziraphale reached down and gently brushed his hair back from his face, tucking it behind his ear. Crowley smiled in his sleep and Aziraphale smiled in return. Oh, yes. It would be well worth the investment to keep that smile in his life for the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank you all for your wonderful comments and encouragement. It's always a bit nerve-wracking to try something new and your words have made it so much easier. The next chapter will be bringing in more characters that are new, yet known. It will also have the sex-on-the-piano scene, so buckle on in and enjoy the ride.


	3. The Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an arrangement is met, Crowley goes shopping, and they dine at the Ritz.
> 
> "Well, Angel," Crowley said with a smirk, "I'd love to be your beck-and-call guy. But it's gonna cost you."
> 
> Aziraphale's eyes gleamed. "All right. Here we go now. Six nights and days. How much were you thinking, my dear?" He took another bite of crepes, relishing them along with the negotiations. He made a little moan as the crepes hit his tongue that made Crowley think of the night before and his cock twitch in anticipation.
> 
> "How about fifteen thousand?" Crowley asked, ever the optimist.
> 
> “Over two thousand a night?! I think not. How about eight thousand?"
> 
> "Twelve?"
> 
> "Ten. Plus additional monies for a new wardrobe. Much as I appreciate it, you can't wear those lovely shorts to the restaurant tonight."
> 
> "I get to keep the clothes?"
> 
> "Absolutely! Wouldn't do me much good, now would they?"
> 
> Crowley pretended to think about the offer while inside he was dancing a jig. Then he grinned into those sweet river blues and said, "Angel, you've got yourself a beck-and-call guy!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are line divides around the sex scenes if you wish to skip them. The ^o0o^ divides denote scene changes.

A beam of sunlight danced across Crowley's face and rudely woke him. He turned over, nestling deeper into the warm comforter and soft, fluffy pillows. Mmmm. This was nice. Where was he again? His eyes flew open as he remembered and he scanned the other side of the bed for Aziraphale. That side of the bed was tucked in and pristine, so the angel hadn't spent the night there. Obviously.

Crowley flipped to his back, stretched, and smiled in satisfaction as he thought about the night before. That had been a lot of fun. Couldn't remember the last time sex had been so...satisfying.

He got out of bed and padded over to the window. The streets of Mayfair were already humming with people heading off to work. He hoped Aziraphale hadn't left yet. Oh, crap! He hoped Aziraphale hadn't left yet!  _ Best get that nonsense straight out of your head _ , he told himself sternly. Rent boys like him were only a dalliance for business types like Aziraphale. But, he thought with a grin, it sure was fun while it lasted!

He peeked into the telly room and found it empty. Heading over to the couch, he grabbed his jacket and pulled out his spare pants - red satin bikinis. He picked up the black g-string and tucked it in the jacket to take home. He heard Aziraphale's voice from off in another part of the suite and went back to the bathroom to grab a robe. Wouldn't do to flash the staff, he supposed. Though it could be fun, he thought, imagining the reaction if he wandered out in the all-together. Well, he'd put on pants and the robe. If he and Aziraphale were alone when he got out there, maybe things would slip off and he could send Aziraphale off with a smile.

He found Aziraphale at the dining table, surrounded by serving dishes and talking on his mobile. He smiled at Crowley when he walked in and held up his finger. Yeah, Crowley could wait since it meant he could admire the golden curls peeking above the sky blue silk robe and the tartan pyjama bottoms below. Tartan. Really? And how did Aziraphale make it look so damn sexy? He walked over and perched against the edge of the table next to Aziraphale as the blond ended his call.

“Relax, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said soothingly. “I have tonight covered. Yes, I'm sure it will be fine for the garden party as well. No, you don't know them. You'll just have to wait for the party. Trust me, it's fine. See you at the meeting in an hour." And he ended the call, putting the mobile in the pocket of his robe.

"Good morning, Aziraphale," Crowley said with a grin and lifted his foot up to snuggle in between Aziraphale's warm thighs. Aziraphale looked startled, then ran his hand up Crowley's ankle and ended at his inner thigh, giving a promising squeeze.

"This would be lovely, my dear," he said with a soft smile, "but we have some things to discuss and I have a business meeting in an hour. I didn't know what you like for breakfast, so I ordered a bit of everything. There are three other chairs...if you would take your pick."

With a grumpy huff, Crowley slunk into the chair to Aziraphale's right, bringing his right foot up into the chair and resting his cheek on his knee. And if that left his long, toned leg uncovered for the angel's viewing pleasure? Well, temptation was his game.

Aziraphale took a moment to appreciate the view, then reluctantly brought his eyes back to meet Crowley's. "My dear, I have a business offer for you," he began.

Crowley reached out for a croissant. "I'm listening," he said, breaking off the tip to nibble.

"Well," Aziraphale began, cutting off a bite of his crepes, "I will be in London on business for the week. There will be several social occasions that require me to bring a companion. I haven't been in London really since the notorious breakup nor am I interested in any possible romantic entanglements. I would like to hire you as my employee for the week, to be at my beck and call, as it were."

"Well, Angel," Crowley said with a smirk, "I'd love to be your beck-and-call guy. But it's gonna cost you."

Aziraphale's eyes gleamed. "All right. Here we go now. Six nights and days. How much were you thinking, my dear?" He took another bite of crepes, relishing them along with the negotiations. He made a little moan as the crepes hit his tongue that made Crowley think of the night before and his cock twitch in anticipation.

"How about fifteen thousand?" Crowley asked, ever the optimist.

“Over two thousand a night?! I think not. How about eight thousand?"

"Twelve?"

"Ten. Plus additional monies for a new wardrobe. Much as I appreciate it, you can't wear those lovely shorts to the restaurant tonight."

"I get to keep the clothes?"

"Absolutely! Wouldn't do me much good, now would they?"

Crowley pretended to think about the offer while inside he was dancing a jig. Then he grinned into those sweet river blues and said, "Angel, you've got yourself a beck-and-call guy!"

Aziraphale stood and reached out his hand to shake on it. Crowley's grin turned mischievous and he said, "I think we can seal this arrangement better than that!" He slid out of the chair and onto his knees. He unfastened the sash to Aziraphale's robe and slid the tartan bottoms to the floor. Aziraphale started to protest about the time, but then Crowley's mouth engulfed his cock and all blood headed quickly south.

______________________________

Crowley's hands buried themselves in Aziraphale's soft, plump arse and he relished the sensation of his cock quickly hardening in his mouth. Aziraphale whined and grabbed two hands full of soft red curls, holding Crowley close as he pushed farther into his mouth.

"Oh, Crowley!" he gasped. "Your mouth is so sinfully warm! This. This won't take long, I'm afraid." In response, Crowley moved one hand down to push off his own pants and stroke himself. The other hand kneaded Aziraphale's arse in time to his bobbing head.

"Move off for just a minute so I can watch you touch yourself,' the blond pleaded, not quite ready to let this end. Crowley rocked back on his heels and opened his robe so Aziraphale could watch the long, steady strokes, his hand slick with his own precum. "My dear, you are simply gorgeous! Temptation incarnate!"

Looking up and seeing Aziraphale's eyes darkened with lust totally flipped Crowley's switches. "Please, Angel," he gasped. "Let me suck you...come in my mouth….I want to taste you!"

"Oh. Oh, yes, dear boy," Aziraphale replied as he pulled Crowley close again and softly stroked his jaw. Crowley let his mouth drop open and Aziraphale docked them tight together like a ship coming home to safe harbor. Crowley filled both his hands with that silky smooth arse and held on tight as Aziraphale fucked into his mouth.

"Crowley! Oh, God, Crowley! Yes, yes, yes…" Aziraphale trailed off into a deep groan as he came deep in Crowley's mouth. Crowley let himself go then, trying his best to keep it on himself so he wouldn't need to clean the floor. As he released Aziraphale's cock, the blond dropped to his knees and cradled Crowley close. Crowley snuggled into his neck and Aziraphale couldn't resist pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

______________________________

"You are going to make me late for my meeting, fiend!" Aziraphale pretended to grumble while stroking his lovely curls away from his face.

"Just tell them something came up and needed your urgent attention," Crowley smirked.

Aziraphale smacked his bottom and started to disentangle them, despite Crowley's disappointed noises. "I'm heading to the shower," he said.

Crowley perked back up. "I can help with that," he said. When Aziraphale eyed him suspiciously, he laughed. "I promise I'll behave and help you get ready to go. Part of the complete beck-and-call Arrangement, as it were. Help each other out. Lend a hand when needed," he leered cheerfully. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and huffed, "Well, come along then, you absolute menace!"

^o0o^

After showering and getting dressed, Aziraphale rushed to get the final touches done.

"Here, Angel. Let me get that for you," Crowley said, deft fingers making quick work of Aziraphale's bow tie. Surprised, Aziraphale straightened the tie a bit, only to find it perfectly tied and straight.

"Not bad," he murmured as Crowley started to the bedroom for his own clothes. "Not bad at all. Wherever did you learn that, my dear?"

An impish smile crossed Crowley's face as he hollered back over his shoulder, "I screwed the debate team in high school."

Aziraphale still looked shocked and stunned as Crowley walked back into the bathroom with his clothes. "Relax, Angel," he said, stretching up to kiss his cheek. "I had a granddad. He liked to wear bow ties on Sundays. Because he was a  _ grandpa _ !" He laughed and pulled on his shorts as Aziraphale huffed and muttered, "Tartan is stylish!"

Aziraphale followed him back into the bedroom, pulling out his wallet as Crowley sat on the bed and pulled on his stockings and boots. He pulled out some notes and handed them to Crowley. "You'll need to go shopping for a full outfit for tonight," he said.

"Suit or dress?" Crowley asked, testing the waters.

"Whichever you feel like, my dear. I know you'll be smashing whichever way you choose."

Crowley ducked his head and pretended to be absorbed in adjusting his thigh thighs, but Aziraphale caught the way his ears pinked up and his smile was soft instead of his usual grin. "Oh," he added, "don't forget to purchase shoes and any other accessories you deem necessary to complete your ensemble."

Crowley folded the notes and put them in his jacket pocket. "You know," he said, standing up and straightening Aziraphale's lapels, "most people these days use plastic."

"Well," Aziraphale said softly, catching those long, nimble fingers in his soft, broad palms, "I'm not most people. And neither are you, my dear. Meet me in the lobby at 7:30 tonight. Our reservation is for 8, here at the Ritz's dining room."

"Hmmm. Don't dates usually pick you up at home?" Crowley joked.

Aziraphale looked very serious as he released Crowley's hands and headed for the door. "This isn't a date, my dear. It's business. Dress to impress, but conservatively."

"Boring, you mean?"

"Elegant. Classy." He stopped by the desk and gathered his laptop case.

Crowley looked thoughtful, then smiled. "Angel, I'll be the perfect elegant companion tonight. I'm going to make you so happy, you'll never want to let me go!"

Aziraphale stopped as he opened the room door. "Six nights. Ten thousand pounds. And, Crowley, my dear, I will let you go." And he left, shutting the door behind him.

"But I'm here now," Crowley said, hugging himself as he realized he would have enough at the end of the week to make a new start. Back to school. No more turning tricks to survive. It was a golden opportunity and he intended to make the most of it! Not to mention the client was the cutest, sexiest man he had ever met.  _ No. Do not mention that _ , he lectured himself.  _ This is strictly business! But sometimes business could be fun _ , he thought with a grin.

^o0o^

After deciding to go with a suit for dinner, Crowley checked his phone and set out to find Savile Row. It was close to the Ritz and famous for their menswear shops. He had in mind what he was looking for: dark suit wide at the shoulders and narrow at the waist, with trousers that hugged his arse. He’d get a black button-down and some flashes of red...maybe in the tie or pocket square.

As he breezed through the lobby, he didn’t notice the older woman in a Ritz jacket stare at him as he left. The day was sunny and warm and he had money in his pocket and clothes to buy. He had started the day with sex and was pretty certain it would end that way, too. All was well with his world.

Wandering down the famous street, his eye was caught by a window display. The suits were classic in cut, but with a bit of flash on each one. Looking up, he saw the shop was called Nutters, and that totally sold him. This is where he would spend his money. He opened the door with a big grin and went inside. The shop was quiet and empty with the exception of the two shop clerks. They eyed him when he entered, but didn’t say anything. Crowley browsed for a bit, waiting for them to offer to help him.  _ Clerks were all over you when you didn’t have anything to spend _ , he mused,  _ but where were they when you actually had some dough? _

Finally, he went up to a mannequin and said, “So, how much would a suit like this go for?”

The nearest clerk, a short, balding bloke, looked at him from head to toe and back up. “Oh, I don’t think we have that in your size,” he said, condescension dripping in his voice.

Crowley’s smile grew tight, but he did his best to reign in his temper. “I didn’t ask if you had it in my size,” he said. “I asked how much it would cost.”

With a sigh, the clerk turned to his co-worker and asked, “Uriel, how much would you say that suit costs?”

The tall woman looked down at Crowley and said, “Oh, it’s very expensive, Sandalphon. I doubt he could afford it.”

The short man smiled nastily and repeated to Crowley, “It’s very expensive. I doubt you could afford it.”

Crowley couldn’t hide his anger. How dare they?! His money was as good as any others! “I have money. How much is the damn suit?”

Uriel smirked at him. “I’m afraid perhaps you have the wrong shop, ducky. Maybe Asda would suit your needs better. We’ve nothing for you here.”

Without another word, Crowley stormed out of the shop and back to the street, his cheeks and ears burning with anger and shame. Uppity gits! They had no right! It felt like everyone on the street was staring at him and he buttoned up his jacket and walked back to the hotel as quickly as possible. What was he going to do? He had to have something to knock the angel’s socks off by evening. Aziraphale was depending on him!

Deep in his thoughts, he never saw the hotel manager until she stood in front of him before he could enter the elevator. Although short with shoulder-length blonde hair, the woman gave off a sense of calm control. This was obviously her world and the rules played by her.

“Excuse me, sir. Might I have a word with you?” she asked politely.

“Oh. Oh, swell. Now what have I done? Is my breathing not good enough for the Ritz?” he asked bitterly.

“What room are you in, sir?” she asked, maintaining her professional demeanor.

“I’m staying in the penthouse,” he said, raising his chin defiantly. “Oh. But I forgot the blasted room key!” Just then, the elevator doors opened and he spotted the operator from the night before. He pointed excitedly at the young man. “He knows! He can tell you!”

The woman turned to her employee. “Do you know this young man, Adam?”

Adam grinned and said, “Yes, ma'am. He came in with Mr. Fell last night.”

“There! See? What did I tell you? I’m staying in the penthouse with Mr. Fell,” Crowley said triumphantly.

“I’d be happy to get you another room key, in that case,” the woman said. “I am Marjorie Tracy and I am the manager here. Might I have a word with you in my office before I get you that key?

“Yes. Yes. Right. Of course,” Crowley said, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Lead on.” He grumpily followed the short, peacefully composed woman to a small, but exquisitely appointed office. The day was taking a decidedly downhill roll.

Crowley slouched in the chair, arms crossed in front of him defiantly. Ms. Tracy leaned back against her desk, facing him.

“Now, Mr. --”

“Crowley. Just Crowley,” he grumbled, steadfastly looking at her shoes and not her face.

“Crowley,” she said with a nod. “As you know, the Ritz has a certain reputation that we strive hard to maintain. Things that happen at other hotels do not happen here. But. Mr. Fell is an important customer who hasn’t visited our establishment in quite some time now. We would like to ensure he returns. I feel certain you are a...relative of his?” She cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at him. He nodded uncertainly back. “You are his…?”

“Nephew?” Crowley ventured after a moment’s silence.

Ms. Tracy smiled and nodded. “Quite so. We hope you and your uncle will enjoy your stay this week. Do you have any other uncles staying with us?”

Crowley shook his head.

“Excellent. We would also hope you would dress more appropriately during your stay.”

That was the last straw for the lanky red-head. He drew himself up straight in the chair and glared at her.

“Now, see, that’s just it!” he cried in frustration. “I tried to get ‘appropriate’ clothes! Aziraphale...Mr. Fell...gave me money to get a suit for dinner tonight. And I went to Savile Row and told them I had money and they still tossed me out of their shop! And what am I supposed to do? I can’t disappoint Aziraphale! He’s depending on me!”

Without a word, Ms. Tracy went to her phone and picked it up.

“Oh, what...are you calling the police? Fine! This is fine. Go ahead...tell them I said hello!” Crowley was too frustrated to sit and stood up to pace.

“Hello. Men’s wear, Anathema Device, please.” Ms. Tracy said into the phone. Crowley stopped to listen. “Hello, Anathema, dear, it’s Ms. Tracy from over at the Ritz. I have a favor to ask. I have a young man here in urgent need of a suit for a dinner date tonight. Would you be able to help him out? Oh, thank you! That’s very kind. He is Mr. Fell’s nephew, his name is Crowley, and I’ll be sending him right over.” She hung up the phone, wrote an address on a note card, and held it out to Crowley with a smile.

“Why...why are you helping me?” he asked, stunned. His hand trembled a bit as he reached for the card.

“I wasn’t always a hotel manager, dearie,” she replied. “My beginnings were not so different from yours. A friend believed in me and gave me a chance and it made all the difference in my  life. So, here. Take your chance and run with it.”

^o0o^

It only took a ten minute walk to get to the shop on the card Ms. Tracy had given him. He went inside and browsed a bit, looking at some jewelry, when a young woman with long, dark hair and round glasses walked up to him.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Are you perhaps Crowley? The young man from the Ritz?” He nodded and she held out her hand. As he shook it she continued, “I’m Anathema and I’ll help you get whatever you need for tonight. Do you know where you’ll be dining?”

“We’re going to dine at the Ritz,” he said, still not quite believing it himself.

“Oh, then you’re going to need to look your best,” she said confidently. “Just consider me your fairy godmother, Cinderella. We’re going to get you ready for the ball. We’ll make sure your uncle is suitably dazzled.”

“Um...Anathema? He’s not really my uncle.”

“They never are, dear. They never are. Now, what did you have in mind?”

^o0o^

Crowley sat at the lounge drinking a soda water with lime and glanced up at the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes. 7:45. Aziraphale was late. Had he changed his mind and ditched Crowley, deciding it would be better to do the meeting on his own?

He heard someone come into the bar area and stop. He turned around, heart pounding in his chest. It was Aziraphale, searching the lounge with those beautiful water blue eyes. He could tell when Aziraphale found him because he broke into the most wonderful, heartstopping smile. It warmed Crowley and chased his insecurities away. Could all that really be for him? Gathering his courage, Crowley stood and walked over.

He felt like royalty in the suit he had put together with Anathema. The soft black wool trousers hugged his legs and arse without revealing too much. The brocade jacket was woven with roses, black on black. Just above the lapel pocket was his touch of flash - red satin cord looped in a pattern very much like the serpent tattoo by his right ear. The satin waistcoat added some shine to the matte black button-down. And the tie was a marvel...black silk hand painted with abstract red roses. His feet were clad in heeled boots made from black snakeskin. His hair was braided like a Viking warrior. The front and top sides were pulled back in an English braid, with two small rope braids on either side.

“You’re late,” he softly scolded Aziraphale when he reached him.

“You’re...stunning!” Aziraphale said, eyes joyful and hungry at the same time.

“You’re forgiven,” Crowley said with a grin.

Aziraphale held out his arm and Crowley nestled his hand in the crook. Crowley thought to himself,  _ I feel like a bloody princess _ ! But he couldn’t stop grinning, knowing he was on the arm of the most handsome man there and that Aziraphale appreciated his effort for the evening.

The other two men were already at the table by the time they were led to their seats. Aziraphale introduced them as Mr. Shadwell and his nephew, Newton Pulsifer. He introduced Crowley as his dear friend, and Crowley’s heart raced again. The look Aziraphale gave him during the introduction left little doubt just how dear a friend he was considered.  _ Even though it is just an act...just business _ , he reminded himself, it was fun to pretend. Just for a bit.

After asking Aziraphale to order for him, Crowley excused himself and went to the men’s room. He took a bit of time to give himself a pep talk and remember the tips Anathema and Ms. Tracy had given him about eating in posh restaurants. Then he took a deep breath and headed back down the stairs to the table.

He was surprised to see a plate with triangles of bread with...stuff on them...when he sat down. Salad! The first course was supposed to be salad with that little salad fork on the outside! That’s what the ladies had told him! None of the others were eating yet and he had no idea what to do with the bread.

“Um...where’s the salad?” he finally asked.

“The salad will be later,” Aziraphale said, patting his arm encouragingly. Crowley looked at his plate and then at all the forks next to it and tried to puzzle it out.

“You know,” said Shadwell, leaning close, “I never know which fork to use myself. It’s all too confusing!” And with that, he picked up a piece of the toast with his fingers and popped it into his mouth. Crowley smiled gratefully, picked up a piece, pushed the olive off onto the plate and tried a bite. The grey stuff was some kind of meat pate and it tasted pretty good. He ate and listened to the men exchange pleasantries.

The plates were removed after a bit and Crowley stared in horror at the shallow bowl placed in front of him filled with what looked like giant snails. He looked questioningly at Aziraphale. "And this is…?"

"It's escargo!" Aziraphale replied. "It's nice! They cook them in garlic butter." The blond picked up what looked like forceps, squeezed the handle to open the circular parts, and gripped a snail with them. Then he used a small fork to dig out the meat. He popped it into his mouth, closed his eyes, and made a sound not unlike what he had that morning while Crowley was sealing the Arrangement. Crowley smiled and nudged Aziraphale's knee under the table. Aziraphale's eyes flew open and he blushed a bit. "You give it a go, my dear " he said quickly to draw away the smiles of the other three men.

"Alright, Ang - Aziraphale," Crowley said. "You know me. Always ready to have a go." He grinned as Aziraphale blushed more and bumped his knee a bit hard. He grabbed the forceps-thingy and squeezed them open. Putting them around a snail shell, he released the tension. The parts pushed together and the escargo flew up into the air. The waiter grabbed it in mid-air, palming it and acting like there had been no disturbance. "No worries, sir," he said calmly. "Happens all the time."

Dinner progressed quietly after that, with no more mishaps. Then Mr. Shadwell and Aziraphale got down to talking business. From what Crowley could understand, Mr. Shadwell's family had owned a business in Soho since the early 1960s. Aziraphale wanted to buy the shop, along with the rest of the block, and replace it with modern chain stores. Mr. Shadwell admitted he was having problems turning a profit in his shop, but was loathe to sell it and see a big company store set up in its stead.

"Have you considered updating and modernizing parts of your business?" Crowley asked quietly. "Computerize your sales terminals and inventory, add online sales, develop a social media presence?"

"Yes, Uncle," Newton chimed in. "I've been telling you it would make a world of difference in your revenues!"

"Aye, lads," the older man admitted. "But all that takes money. I have a small business loan application at the bank and I'm just waitin' to hear back."

"I wouldn't count on that loan, Mr Shadwell," Aziraphale said with a hint of danger in his eyes. "Loans like that can need time you can't afford to take. The money we're offering you would give you a very comfortable retirement indeed."

"Do you know things I don't, Mr. Fell? Shadwell was angry and didn't try to hide it. "A loan officer or two in yer pocket, have ye?" Aziraphale nodded his head slightly, acknowledging the hard truth of Shadwell's words.

Shadwell threw down his napkin. "And to think I used to give you sweets when you came to visit with yer mum at the bookshop! Do you think she'll be proud of what yer doin'?"

"Doubtful," Aziraphale replied, dabbing his mouth with the napkin. "However, we'll never know. She has passed on to her reward."

Shadwell looked stunned. "I'm sorry," he said. "I hadn't heard."

"I'm sorry, too," Crowley said, gently squeezing Aziraphale's leg under the table.

"It's quite alright. Tickety-boo, in fact." Aziraphale said, refusing to meet anyone's eye. "Shall we discuss the particulars of the sale?"

With that, Shadwell's anger returned and he stood. Newton hastily stood with him and asked, "Are you alright, Uncle?"

"I'm fine, lad. But the air in here is a bit stuffy. Mr. Fell wants to play hardball. Fine. But he's not the only one who knows how to play! I'll talk with you later, Mr. Fell." 

Aziraphale stood and shook Shadwell's hand. "I look forward to it, Mr. Shadwell. Have a good evening."

The old man grunted and leaned down to Crowley. "It was a pleasure meeting you, lad," he said. "Watch your heart around this one, though." He and Newton left and Aziraphale sat back down.

After a moment's silence, Crowley said, "Well. That went down like a lead balloon."

Aziraphale nodded absently then looked up puzzled at Crowley. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I said, that went down like a lead balloon."

"Yes. Quite. I hate to cut our dinner short, but I have some emails and such I should see to. Would you prefer to stay? You can order whatever you like for dessert."

"That's okay, Angel. I'd rather come back to the room with you. If you don't mind "

Aziraphale stroked Crowley's cheek with the back of his hand and Crowley couldn't help leaning into it a bit. "That would be lovely, my dear. Let me get the check and we'll be off."

^o0o^

Up in the room, Aziraphale sat at his desk and Crowley promptly sat in his lap. He pulled his head to his chest and stroked his soft curls soothingly. “Sure business is what you want, Angel?” he asked softly, kissing the top of his head. Aziraphale quickly sat back up and the softness of a moment ago vanished.

“I’m afraid so, my dear,” he said briskly. “That suit is stunning, but why don’t you take some of it off and get a bit more comfortable? I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

Okay, Angel. Sure.” Crowley stood up and walked to the telly room, pausing to look back. Aziraphale had his laptop open and those silly little round reading glasses perched on his nose. Why did they make him look so fucking cute? Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, Crowley walked through to the bedroom. He took off his boots and socks, hung up his tie and jacket, and left the trousers, waistcoat and button-down. If he was going to distract his angel, he needed to give the man some opening moves to make with his hands. Wait.  _ His _ angel?! Oh, he was in such trouble! 

Peeking out from the telly room, Aziraphale was no longer at his desk. So Crowley sauntered out to look for him. To his surprise, the French door to the balcony was open and Aziraphale had moved his chair to the doorway. He walked out and looked over London, admiring the thousands of little lights and thinking about all the lives they represented.

“Thought you said you didn’t come out here,” he said, keeping his back to Aziraphale to give him some space.

“Well, if you notice, I am only halfway out and halfway in. That way I can enjoy the breeze without being near the fall zone.”

Crowley leaned over the edge of the balcony. “You mean this fall zone?” he asked innocently.

Aziraphale’s voice came panicky and fast. “Crowley! Get away from there! Please!”

Crowley stood and turned, resting his bum against the thick stone railing. “If I fell, would you save me?” he asked.

“I...I would try. Best not test it, though. It is a terribly long way to fall. Would you...would you get me a scotch on rocks, please? The bottle and ice are in the minifridge.” His voice sounded shaky and Crowley went and got them both a drink without another word, thinking about other painful ways to fall. He handed a glass to Aziraphale and sat on the balcony at his side. Aziraphale wound his fingers into Crowley’s hair fiercely, as if trying to reassure himself Crowley was truly there with him. Crowley took a sip of his whiskey and leaned his head against Aziraphale’s soft hip.

When his drink was gone, Crowley set the tumbler to the side and looked up into Aziraphale’s face. “Hey, Angel,” he said. “I am sorry about your mother. When did she die?”

“A month ago,” he answered with little inflection. “But we hadn’t spoken in twenty-four and a half years, so it’s not like it left a big hole in my life.”

“Mr. Shadwell mentioned a bookshop. What was that about?”

“It’s part of my inheritance. It’s the corner shop on the block I intend to buy and sell. The A.Z. Fell & Co. bookshop has been in my family since 1800. It was established by my ancestor, Aziraphale Fell. Mother named me for him. When I was a child, I loved to explore that old shop. I dreamed of running it someday,” he said wistfully.

“What changed your mind?”

“You can’t build a business empire running an old bookshop, my dear. Emotion and business simply do not mix.”

“I know what you mean, Angel,” Crowley sat up and scooted around to look at Aziraphale. “I’ve been in the business about a year now. One of the first things you learn is to get rid of the emotion. When I’m with a guy, I just turn it off and do it, like a robot.” He saw Aziraphale’s face fall and realized he had fucked up. “Except with you, of course,” he added, knowing it was too late to smooth it over.

“Of course not with me,” he said a bit bitterly. “You and I are much alike, my dear. We both screw people for money.”

Ouch. That stung. But he supposed he deserved that for running his mouth too much. He tried again. He got on his knees and rested his hands on those lovely thighs. “Hey. I have an idea. We could watch a sappy old movie together. Netflix and chill?”

Aziraphale stood up and put his chair back at his desk. He removed his tie and coat, putting them over the chair back. “I have some things to do downstairs,” he announced, not looking at his companion. “I’ll be back later, but I could be quite late. Don’t feel you have to wait up for me.” And, just like that, he was gone.

Crowley wanted to kick himself, but knew all he could do was wait. He stripped down to just the black silk boxers he had bought at Anathema’s shop and curled up in the fluffy white hotel robe. He turned on an old romance movie and settled in to wait.

When the clock said it was three in the morning and Aziraphale hadn’t returned, Crowley grew worried and felt he had given Aziraphale enough space. He called down to the front desk and asked if they knew where Mr. Fell was.

When he got to the hotel lobby, he could hear classical piano music off in one of the side rooms. Following the sound, he peeked in to see a ballroom with a grand piano at the front of the room. The cleaning crew was working slowly, enjoying the music. Aziraphale was lost in the music, swaying as he played. Crowley walked up to the piano and stood quietly, his eyes closed, enjoying the ebb and flow of the piece, admiring the skill in Azirphale’s hands. When he finished, Crowley quietly applauded and Aziraphale’s eyes flashed up. They swept over Crowley’s lean figure; over the light golden brown eyes, the flame colored curls freed from their braids, and the sprinkle of freckles and chest hair at the vee of his robe.

“Gentlemen, if you could leave the room and give us some privacy, please?” he asked in a tone that made it clear this was not a request. Without a word, the men picked up their cleaning supplies and left the room.

“Do people always do what you tell them to?” Crowley asked playfully.

Aziraphale didn’t say anything, but put his hands around Crowley’s waist and lifted him onto the top of the piano. Crowley definitely did NOT squeak in surprise. “I guess so,” he answered his own question, surprised that someone who seemed so soft and gentle could also be so strong and sexy.

Still silent, Aziraphale brushed his hair from his face and leaned in for a kiss. Remembering himself at the last minute, Crowley turned his head and Aziraphale backed up. He stared into Crowley’s eyes and the heat in them threatened to undo Crowley entirely. Aziraphale leaned in again, and Crowley turned his head once more. Accepting it this time, Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s neck, nibbling down the long length of it.

_______________________________

Aziraphale unknotted Crowley’s sash and pushed aside the robe, letting it drop on the piano like a blanket. He looked at the silk boxers and grinned. “Those are new,” he murmured with approval. He stepped back and removed everything but his pants. “I was tested last year and you’re the only one I’ve had sex with since. I’m clean, but I don’t have a condom.”

“I was tested three months ago and I’ve only had sex with condoms. I trust you, Angel. And I want you.” Aziraphale shoved down his pants and Crowley could see he felt the same. Stepping back to the piano, Aziraphale spread his hand high on Crowley’s chest. With his other hand supporting Crowley’s neck, Aziraphale ran his hand slowly down the lean, wiry chest, pushing him gently but firmly back onto the piano. He hooked his fingers into the waist of the black boxers and Crowley lifted his hips, his feet clashing the keys into a loud dischord. Now Aziraphale ran his hands up Crowley’s long legs, the shudders in his wake continuing the ragged tune. He paused to admire the long, elegant cock already dripping just for him. Crowley whined impatiently and wiggled his hips.

Aziraphale chuckled, deep and smoky and full of promise. “Patience, my dear. I promise you will be satisfied.”

Crowley felt like he might just explode. What client had ever cared whether HE was satisfied? Only his angel, that’s who!

Then Aziraphale’s mouth was on him, hot and wet, and there was no room for thought. Aziraphale scooted him to the edge of the piano top to get a better angle, then held down his hips to prevent Crowley from thrusting up. All Crowley could do was wrap his fingers in those soft champagne curls and hold on. He keened and the angel sucked him in deeper and deeper. Then he came off, leaving Crowley tugging to get him back; desperate for that lovely warmth to surround his cock again.

Aziraphale licked his palm and wrapped it around the base of Crowley’s cock and his hips bucked up into that soft heat. Aziraphale returned to sucking him and Crowley moaned in appreciation. When Aziraphale put his hand up to Crowley’s mouth, he let his fingers in, sucking them enthusiastically. Aziraphale’s hand was dripping when he pulled it away and brought it down to Crowley’s entrance. He stroked and circled and probed the ring of muscle until Crowley finally relaxed enough for him to get a finger in up to the second knuckle.

All of Crowley’s being was focused on his waist down. Aziraphale felt so, so good! Crowley started babbling nonsense stuff...wording was as hard as he was. But it seemed to encourage Aziraphale and soon Crowley was on edge with Aziraphale three fingers deep.

Then...there was nothing. The fingers and the warm mouth and the soft hand...all were gone. Crowley wailed in frustration, scooting down more, trying to get all that wonderfulness back.

“Patience, my darling,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I just want to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

_ Darling? That was new _ . It made his heart blaze with heat.

But then Aziraphale was pushing inside him and nothing else mattered in the whole world. That hot, burning stretch filled him and made him want more! He wrapped his long legs around Aziraphale, his heels digging into that soft, wonderfully plush arse and he reached for something to hold onto. At first, he could find only the edge of the robe and the slick surface of the piano top. Then he found Aziraphale and buried his hands in his hair, urging him to go faster, deeper. Begging him for more.

Aziraphale loved it. He lifted one of Crowley’s legs up to his shoulder so he could have better purchase. Then, with a hand on that thigh and the other on Crowley’s hip, Aziraphale began thrusting in earnest. His blood sang and the room was filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, Crowley’s keening, and Aziraphale’s breath coming fast and hard.

“Crowley, my dear, my darling, may I?” Aziraphale couldn’t spit the question out, but Crowley understood.

“Oh, God, yes, Angel! Come in me! Fill me! Fucking yes, that feels so good!” 

And then Crowley came without a hand on his cock, overwhelmed by sensation and filled with joy. He screeched his climax, not caring if the whole of London heard him. What could Aziraphale do but tumble after him? He fell in a blaze of white light and stars, until he collapsed spent on the gasping chest of his lover, safely back on Earth once more.


	4. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ligur was helping him try on a pair of black suede boots that snuggled up over his knees where they folded back to reveal a scarlet satin lining. Looking at the clerk trying so hard to earn his favor, Crowley had a wicked thought play across his mind.
> 
> "You know, Ligur, that's a very handsome tie."
> 
> "Oh, thanks," Ligur said, preening a bit. "It's like that Van Gogh painting, 'Starry Nights'."
> 
> "I bet Aziraphale would like that tie," Crowley said, looking at it pointedly. No reaction. Crowley looked up at Beelz standing attentively nearby. "I think Aziraphale would really like that tie, don't you, Beelz?"
> 
> "Of course, Crowley. It would bring out the blue in his eyes," Beelz said smoothly. "Ligur, give the nice man your tie. Now."
> 
> As the unhappy clerk loosened the silk, Crowley murmured, "Imma demon. I'm not nice. I'm never nice." He grinned as Ligur handed over the tie and added it to his growing pile of purchases.
> 
> He reached out his hand and said, "Thanks, Ligur." While they were shaking, Crowley slipped Ligur a £20 note. The clerk smiled as he pocketed it while Beelz pretended not to notice. Well, Crowley thought, even a demon can have his moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics are from "I Don't Need Anything But You" and "Tomorrow", both from the Broadway musical, "Annie" and written by Martin Charnin.
> 
> The quote is from "Winnie-the-Pooh" by A.A. Milne.
> 
> As always, there are line dividers around the sex scene so you can skip it if you prefer. Angel dividers show a change of scene.

Crowley slowly drifted awake to….singing? Was that Aziraphale? Must do. He opened an eye and squinted at the other side of the bed. Which was messed up. His heart sped up realizing Aziraphale had slept with him last night. And what was he singing? He listened closely to make out the words over the rush of the shower.

**_You've wrapped me around_ **

**_That cute little finger._ **

**_You've made life a song_ **

**_You've made me the singer!_ **

**_And what's the bathtub tune_ **

**_You always "Bu-Bu-Boo?"_ **

**_Bu-Bu-Bu_ **

**_Anything but you._ **

Crowley started to grin into his pillow. “Annie”? Aziraphale was singing songs from “Annie”?!

**_Yesterday was plain awful_ **

**_You can say that again_ **

**_Yesterday was plain awful_ **

**_But that's_ **

**_Not now_ **

**_That's then_ **

**_He's poor as a mouse,_ **

**_I'm richer than Midas._ **

**_But nothing on earth_ **

**_Could ever divide us!_ **

**_And if tomorrow,_ **

**_I'm an apple seller, too_ **

**_I don't need anything but you!_ **

Well. That was just too fucking adorable. The man liked old bookshops. He wore bow ties...tartan, no less! He sang old show tunes in the shower. He played classical piano. Crowley stretched and shivered, remembering what else he played on the piano. Shit. He really liked Aziraphale. He ignored the little voice that whispered he had waved goodbye to "like" a good ways back down the road. Sigh. He needed to put the brakes on his heart like yesterday.

He smashed his face in the pillow and covered his head with the other. Stupid heart! Stupid cute shower-singing rich guys!

A few minutes later, he heard Aziraphale come in, but kept his head covered, just waiting. Aziraphale sat on the edge of the bed and nudged his shoulder.

"Come on, gorgeous...time to wake up," he said gently.

"Tomorrow," Crowley muttered into his pillow.

Aziraphale froze. "What did you say?" he asked.

Crowley rolled over, removing the pillow and grinning up at Aziraphale. "The sun'll come out tomorrow," he sang softly. "Come what may."

Aziraphale groaned and covered his hands with his face, mortified. Crowley sat up and continued, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow! Yer only a day away!"

He pulled Aziraphale's hands down. "C'mon, handsome...big finish!" Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but sang along.

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love you, tomorrow! You're only a daaay aa-waaay!"

Crowley sat and grinned at Aziraphale, still holding his hands.

"I take it you heard me in the shower?"

Crowley nodded enthusiastically.

"And I'm never living it down?"

"Nope!" Crowley said, popping the "p".

"You are an absolute demon!" Aziraphale said, shaking his head and laughing.

He looked appraising at Crowley and his eyes darkened from river blue to that of a cloud heavy with rain. "Are you wearing anything, my dear?"

Crowley made a big show of popping up the bedclothes and checking.

"Nope," he said again with satisfaction. "Though, as a demon, I could be lying. It's what we do. Wanna check?"

Aziraphale kept his gaze trained intently on Crowley's as he ran a hand down the red-head's chest, under the covers, and continued until he found Crowley's rapidly hardening cock. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of the velvety skin as he stroked up slowly. Crowley whined and bucked his hips upward, seeking more friction.

Aziraphale's eyes flew open and he shook his head and patted the unseen member.

"Later, my dear," he said reluctantly. "Gabriel is expecting me in a meeting this morning. And you need to use this!" He pulled out a credit card and pressed it into Crowley's hand. "See? I am quite aware of the advantages of plastic."

"More shopping?" Crowley asked with a groan, flopping down dramatically on the bed.

"Quite," answered Aziraphale. "I'm surprised you didn't get more than one suit yesterday."

Crowley rolled away on his side, avoiding Aziraphale's eyes. "It wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be," he said sadly.

"Not fun? Why?" Aziraphale asked.

Looking back at those stormy eyes, Crowley wailed, "They were mean to me!" The whole story of how he had been so badly treated at Nutter's by the clerks came rushing out. Aziraphale's eyes grew angry and his mouth set into a thin line.

"Change of plans, my dear," he said firmly. "WE are going shopping this morning."

"But. What about Gabriel and the meeting?" Crowley asked.

"You get dressed and I'll take care of Gabriel. We can grab some breakfast on the way." He smiled and patted his hip encouragingly, then stepped into the telly room, pulling out his mobile.

Crowley scrambled out of bed, quickly pulling on a new pair of black silk boxers, his new black trousers, the cotton button-down, and the satin waistcoat, leaving off the jacket and tie. He left the top two buttons undone and rolled up the sleeves, showing off his lean, wiry forearms. It was a lot of black, he thought. He'd have to get an accessory or two while they were out. He left his hair down to add color and left the scruff on his face for the masculine touch. He liked the contrast. He pulled on the new snakeskin boots and joined Aziraphale in the next room. The blond was still on his mobile, but Crowley could tell by the way his eyes lit up as he looked him over that he was pleased with his appearance.

Aziraphale finished his call and slipped the mobile in his coat's inner pocket. He looked at Crowley and circled his index finger. With a grin, the tall man did his best catwalk turn and saunter, pausing to look back over his shoulder and strike a pose. Aziraphale's smile was full of wonder, sunrises,and just a touch of smoulder.

"You are a marvel, my dear," he whispered. "May I take a picture?”

“You’re the boss, handsome,” Crowley said, hiding his inner fluster. “But just between us, yeah?”

“Of course, my dear,” Aziraphale said, reaching back for the mobile and quickly taking the picture while Crowley resumed the smoulder. “I have no intentions of sharing you this week. By the way, there is a small present for you on the table. Would you like to open it before we leave or wait till later?"

"A present?!" Crowley definitely did not squeal. He didn't run for the dining area, but his hips were more of a somba than a saunter. By the time Aziraphale made it to the room, the wrapping paper looked like confetti covering the floor. Crowley reverently held the thick black leather-bound sketchbook. "Moleskine?" he breathed. "Angel, I never thought I would own one of these! And the pencils and erasers are just perfect. Thank you!"

Aziraphale had time to smile before he had his arms full of a happy artist, peppering his cheek with kisses. "I'm so glad you like them, darling," he said. "I thought it would give you something to do if my meetings run late tonight. I'd love to see your sketches."

"Angel, they're perfect! How can I thank you?' Crowley arched an eyebrow and gave a pointed look at Aziraphale's trousers. Despite the plans he had mapped out for the day, Aziraphale's cock thought Crowley had an excellent idea and perked up immediately.

Aziraphale did his best to keep them on course. "Well, my dear, you could tell me your full name for starters. How the deuce am I supposed to introduce you if I don't even know your name?"

Crowley pouted, but Aziraphale remained firm. Well...firm and decidedly silent. Finally, Crowley huffed and said, "Anthony J. Crowley," not meeting Aziraphale's eye.

"Anthony?"

"What? You don't like it?" Crowley asked worriedly.

"No, I didn't say that," Aziraphale reassured him quickly. "I'll get used to it. What's the 'J' for?"

Crowley hemmed and hawed. "It's just a 'J' really," he finally muttered.

"Hmmm," said Aziraphale. "A bit of a mystery man, eh? Let's see if I can figure it out. If I guess right, will you tell me?" He gave Crowley his very best puppy dog eyes.

It only took a minute for Crowley to cave. "Yes, alright, I'll do that. But you can only make one guess an hour. I don't want to spend all day telling you 'no'."

Aziraphale stepped over and ran a finger softly up the inside of Crowley's arm, making him shiver. "Oh, I much prefer it when you say 'yes, yes, yes,' my darling. Joseph?"

Crowley leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Nope" and licked along the edge, nipping the lobe gently.

Aziraphale shivered and said, "We best leave now or I will have no recourse but to spend the day here having you on every horizontal surface and perhaps a few vertical ones as well. And then you would have nothing to wear to the garden party tomorrow. While that would certainly liven things up, I am still not inclined to share you. At all." He went in for a kiss, but once again had to settle for sharp cheekbones instead of those soft, red lips.

^o0o^

Crowley popped a stick of gum in his mouth as they left the bistro and started off for the store Aziraphale had in mind. He had told Crowley they carried both men's wear and women's clothing. Crowley could get whatever he liked, but he needed something "dressy casual" for the party tomorrow afternoon, some everyday casual clothes, and...a gown. With sparkly shoes and elbow-length gloves. Aziraphale refused to tell him why, insisting it was a surprise for Thursday evening. It made Crowley both nervous and excited. What did that angel have up his sleeve?

To his surprise, Aziraphale had taken his hand as they left the Ritz and was still holding it. As if they were a real couple, not just for the Arrangement. Crowley grinned and popped a bubble with his gum. Aziraphale looked startled, but said nothing. Crowley couldn’t resist poking a bit and popped another bubble. Aziraphale looked flustered and then a little annoyed.

"For Heaven's sake, Crowley! We're almost to the store. Get rid of your gum, please!" he scolded.

Staring into those lovely green-blue eyes now widened in exasperation, Crowley pulled a 20 pence coin from his pocket, smooshed the gum on it, and stuck it to the curb. He tapped it with his toe to make sure it was well stuck.

Aziraphale's mouth dropped in horror as Crowley just grinned back.

"I don't believe you just did that!" he sputtered indignantly.

"Evil demon, me." Crowley said smugly.

Aziraphale sighed and shook his head. "Get thee behind me, Foul Fiend!" he said and opened the door to the shop. "After you." He smiled despite himself as Crowley sauntered happily by him.

Aziraphale reclaimed Crowley's hand and led him up to the front desk. "I'd like a word with the manager, if you please, my dear," he said firmly, making it clear that it wasn't really a request.

"Just one moment, sir," the tall, dark man replied. "I'll see if they're available." There was only one other clerk in the store; a man as pale as this one was dark. He glanced at them with curiosity as he folded shirts and arranged them on the display table.

The dark clerk made a call from the counter, and a moment later, a short person with razor cut dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, and pale skin came bursting out from a back room, annoyance written all over their face. "Alright, Ligur," they growled, "what is so important and why couldn't you handle it yourself?"

"Oh, that would be my fault, I'm afraid," Aziraphale interrupted smoothly. "Do you see this young man here?" Crowley grinned and gave a little bow. The manager looked at him and gave a dismissive grunt.

"So? What about him," they demanded.

"Well, he is going to need a new wardrobe." Aziraphale held up a gleaming black credit card. "And I intend to spend obscene amounts of money to help him get everything his little heart desires. But to do that, we're going to need some major sucking up."

Aziraphale had everyone's attention now. The manager held out his hand. "My name is Beelz and I will be most happy to make sure…." He looked pointedly at Crowley.

"This is Anthony Crowley and I am Aziraphale Fell. Of Fell Enterprises."

Beelz's eyes widened as they realized just how good a day they might have.

"Mr. Fell. Mr. Crowley. It would be an honor, sirs,"

"Um. It's just Crowley, actually," Crowley said, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Certainly. Crowley. As you wish, sir. Hastur, please bring a chair near the dressing rooms for Crowley and we can show him an assortment of things to try on. Ligur, please turn the sign to closed so we can give Crowley the attention he so richly deserves." As the clerks scrambled to comply, Beelz leaned in towards Aziraphale. "Just how obscene are we talking, sir? Profane? Or really offensive?"

"Reeeally offensive," Aziraphale said with a smile.

"Oh, I like that so much, sir."

Aziraphale stood back and watched as the clerks fawned over Crowley, bringing out shirts and trousers and accessories galore. Occasionally he would offer some thumbs up or down, but mostly he just basked in Crowley's bright smile. Not a grin. Not a smirk. Just a truly happy and relaxed smile. It was worth however much the clothes cost just to see it. Wistfully, Aziraphale thought what it would be like to have that smile just for him. But, without the Arrangement and all the money, would Crowley even look at him? A middle-aged businessman who carried a bit of excess weight, wore bow ties, and sang show tunes in the shower? It was laughable, really. No wonder he only got cheek kisses. Aziraphale might be the employer, but Crowley was most certainly in charge of the show. He sighed and went back to watching Crowley have the time of his life.

Crowley had begun trying things on when Gabriel called. Aziraphale groaned and wished he could just ignore him. Wished he, oh, owned a bookshop or something where he set his own hours and was beholding to none. Then he answered the phone and tried to sound like he cared as Gabriel ranted about him pushing back his meetings. Then he started in about Shadwell and his need for Aziraphale to come help lock the deal in place. He wasn't wrong, so Aziraphale calmed him by saying he was on his way and would be there soon.

Tapping the mobile off he went over to whisper in Crowley's ear. “Joshua?” Crowley laughed, but said, “Nope”. Aziraphale reminded him about the gown and that money was no object. Crowley directed that easy smile in his direction and Aziraphale melted. He smiled back, and oh, what it did to his heart! He stood up and kissed Crowley's cheek before announcing, "This man has my credit card."

"And we will help him use it!" Beelz declared as Aziraphale left.

^o0o^

Crowley was floating. He knew money mattered, but this? The clerks were at HIS beck and call, and Beelz made sure they met every request immediately. It was a bit overwhelming, but oh so enjoyable!

Ligur was helping him try on a pair of black suede boots that snuggled up over his knees where they folded back to reveal a scarlet satin lining. Looking at the clerk trying so hard to earn his favor, Crowley had a wicked thought play across his mind.

"You know, Ligur, that's a very handsome tie."

"Oh, thanks," Ligur said, preening a bit. "It's like that Van Gogh painting, 'Starry Nights'."

"I bet Aziraphale would like that tie," Crowley said, looking at it pointedly. No reaction. Crowley looked up at Beelz standing attentively nearby. "I think Aziraphale would really like that tie, don't you, Beelz?"

"Of course, Crowley. It would bring out the blue in his eyes," Beelz said smoothly. "Ligur, give the nice man your tie. Now."

As the unhappy clerk loosened the silk, Crowley murmured, "Imma demon. I'm not nice. I'm never nice." He grinned as Ligur handed over the tie and added it to his growing pile of purchases.

He reached out his hand and said, "Thanks, Ligur." While they were shaking, Crowley slipped Ligur a £20 note. The clerk smiled as he pocketed it while Beelz pretended not to notice.  _ Well _ , Crowley thought,  _ even a demon can have his moments _ .

^o0o^

At the end of two hours, Crowley was exhausted, but he had a small mountain of purchases, including a gown to knock Aziraphale's socks off...and hopefully, his trousers! With a big, satisfied smile, Beelz had loaded Hastur and Lugur down with various bags and boxes, leaving Crowley to carry the gown and several shoe bags. They started off to the hotel, but Crowley veered them towards Savile Row first. When he got to Nutter's, he asked the men to give him five minutes. He entered the shop with his gown and shoes and looked around. Sandalphon and Uriel were at his side instantly, asking what they could do to help.

"Don't you remember me?" Crowley asked with a smug grin. When the pair looked puzzled and shook their heads, he pounced. "I was here yesterday and you refused to serve me," he hissed. "You work on commission, right?" They nodded slowly, looking at each other with dawning horror. "Big mistake!" Crowley chortled. "Big! Huge mistake! Le grande erreur!"

He turned towards the door, saying, "Oh, well. Can't stay and chat. More shopping to do. Ciao!"

And if there was a bit more saunter than usual in his step, who could blame him? Ms. Tracy watched him lead his entourage to the elevator with a pleased smile. It was good to see the lad making the most of his opportunity.

^o0o^

Crowley spent the afternoon putting away his new clothes, sketching in his new book, and plotting. The plotting included talking to Ms. Tracy, asking her for a little assistance and a heads up when Aziraphale entered the hotel. Crowley had PLANS!

When the call came in, Crowley went to the stereo and bluetoothed his mobile to it, setting it to play Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”. It was the music Aziraphale had been playing on the piano the night before and the bit of information he had gotten from Ms. Tracy. Then he settled himself in careful disarray at the dining table and waited.

Aziraphale opened the door and turned to put his coat in the closet. He paused when Crowley purred, “Hello, dear. How was your day?” He turned back to the dining room and stared, his coat falling to the floor without his notice. Piano music softly filled the rooms. The table was set with china and candles and a single red rose in a vase. But they barely registered. Crowley was slouched on a chair, his feet up on the next chair, nude except for a tie, which drew focus down his lean torso to his hard, magnificent cock that he was slowly stroking. Crowley’s smile widened to a grin as he watched Aziraphale struggle to say...something...anything.

Finally, the blond blinked and managed, “Nice tie.”

Crowley chuckled. “Glad you like it. I got it for you.”

“Good. Bring it and your delectable self to the sofa, please.”

______________________________

Crowley stood up and sauntered over, while Aziraphale followed him, shedding his bowtie and unbuttoning his shirt as he went. Before he could sit, Aziraphale turned him and pulled him in tight, kissing hard into that soft spot on Crowley’s neck where it met his shoulders. Crowley gasped and grabbed those soft, almost white curls, urging him on. Aziraphale moved his hips back enough to undo his belt and flies while never breaking contact with his lips. He pushed down on his clothes, letting them pool around his ankles, then pushed his hips back into Crowley’s. “Oh, God, Aziraphale,” he whimpered, moving a hand down to that soft arse, kneading it and pulling, trying to get them even closer.

Aziraphale broke the kiss, but stayed locked in the tightness of their embrace, feeling the heat spread from their cocks to ignite him entirely. He gently put a finger to the red, swollen mark he had left on that freckled collar. “That’s going to leave a mark. So sorry.”

“I’m not sorry,” Crowley said fiercely. “Mark me all over. ‘S fine. ‘M yours. Maybe just for the next few days, but I am. Yours, I mean.”

Aziraphale’s eyes clouded over at the reminder of how short their time was together. But he shook it off and sat on the sofa. “Hand me my tie, then, please,” he said softly. “And turn around. Hands behind your back.

Crowley hesitated. He had never let a client tie him up before. But this was Aziraphale. If he trusted him enough for sex without condoms, what’s a little bondage play? He loosened the tie, let it drip into Aziraphale’s waiting hand, and turned around. Making sure to keep it soft and loose so not to damage either the tie or Crowley’s skin, Aziraphale tied those long, elegant hands together. Placing eager hands on those slim hips, Aziraphale turned him back around.

“Is this okay, my dear?” he asked, looking up into those golden eyes.

“Oh, more than okay, Angel,” Crowley breathed. “What do you want first?”

“Well, now that I have you in my power, I think I would rather like dinner.” Aziraphale licked his lips, kicked his trousers and pants from his feet, and pulled Crowley in close between his knees.

He looked at Crowley's cock - long and ruddy and dripping - and bit his lower lip. "Feel free to come in my mouth, my dear," he whispered. "I intend to fuck you for quite a long time after, fill you with my come, and lick every drop from your delectable arse."

Crowley squirmed and whined,"Aziraphale! That is not how angels talk!"

"No?" he asked in amusement. "Well, what is a demon but a fallen angel? Perhaps I have already fallen."

Before Crowley could really process that, Aziraphale's mouth was on him and he had no words. Aziraphale swallowed him down into a sea of wet warmth. Strong, square fingers kneaded his cheeks, drawing him closer until those soft, sweet lips were pressed into the coppery curls. Crowley felt like he was drowning, but didn't want to come up for air. Just when he felt he would never bother to breathe again, Aziraphale pulled off with a pop as the suction was released.

Crowley took a breath and wailed his disappointment. Aziraphale chuckled softly and said,"don't worry, my dear. We're not even close to done. But we might need some lube before long."

"Under the red throw pillow, Angel," he panted, collecting his scattered thoughts. “And there's a towel and flannel in the chafing dish on the coffee table. For after."

"My, you did prepare, didn't you?" Aziraphale laughed as he pulled the small tube from under the pillow.

"'S my job, sir," Crowley said with a grin."Beck and call guy, at your service." The laughter died on Aziraphale's lips and Crowley wanted to bite his tongue out. This. This was why he couldn't have nice things! He always fucked it up with his smart mouth and endless questions.

"YOUR back and call guy, Aziraphale. No one else's. No one else could compare, yeah?" He spoke earnestly, and when Aziraphale looked up at him, he did his best to let the truth of it shine from the golden brown depths of his eyes.

"Perhaps not forever, but for tonight you are mine and I will not waste a moment of it," Aziraphale promised. He squirted some lube in his hand and covered it with his other to warm it. Dipping his fingers in, he reached around to start relaxing that tight ring of muscle. He reached down with his other hand and stroked himself hard again. Looking up at Crowley, he licked the flat of his tongue up Crowley’s shaft like it was a lolly, swirling it around the tip. Crowley closed his eyes to focus on staying vertical without any way to hold onto anything. The angel’s tongue felt heavenly and before he was even aware, Aziraphale already had a finger inside him. Then Aziraphale crooked his free index finger, pressing it up behind Crowley’s bollocks while stroking inside, searching for that sweet bundle of nerves. When he found it with both hands, Crowley whited out a bit, pitching forward. Aziraphale had to catch him or he would have fallen.

“Hmmm,” Aziraphale smiled. “I think we’d best save that for when you’re horizontal.”

When Crowley was steady on his feet again, Aziraphale returned to sucking like he was trying to get all the bubbles from an almost finished bubble tea. He was two fingers in and Crowley could only mew and shake and stand there, taking in all that heat. “A-A-Angel,” he stammered. “Soon. Can’t hold back much longer.”

In response, Aziraphale swallowed him down to his base again, the head of his cock pushed deep into Aziraphale’s throat. Crowley threw back his head and howled as his climax took him hard and fast. He would have fallen forward if Aziraphale didn’t have him firmly by the hips. Aziraphale swallowed every drop of his spend, licking away any that he missed as he pulled off and guided Crowley safely into his lap. He cradled the sweat-damp head on his shoulder, cooing nonsense words to him softly. He kissed the flame-red hair, pushing it away from the blissed out face. For now, Aziraphale just let himself be happy and content, savoring the moment. Crowley stirred a bit and Aziraphale pulled back so he could stroke his face and wait for him to open his eyes. “So good for me, my dearest. So amazing you are!” he whispered as Crowley drifted back to himself.

"Better, sweetheart?" he asked as Crowley's golden eyes blinked at him a minute later.

Crowley nodded with a big grin on his face and tried to speak. "Y-yep, Angel. That was fucking amazing! Your turn?"

"If you're feeling up to it, my dear "

"I'm good, Angel. Where do you want me?"

"Here should be good. Kneel down facing the couch, will you? There's a good hellion."

"Hellion? What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"You can be both. Quite versatile, you. Now, on your knees and don't make me ask again."

Crowley knelt, but couldn't resist asking, "What would you do if I refused?"

"Well then we would be done for the night, of course. I would never force you to do anything you didn't like, my dear."

"What if I want you to force me? Just a bit?" Crowley asked looking over his shoulder as Aziraphale knelt behind him.

"Do you enjoy a bit of a tussle, dear boy?" Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's hair and pulled his head up and back to his chest. Crowley sucked in his breath and his heart raced. Aziraphale circled Crowley's long throat with his hand and slowly stroked up until Crowley's jaw was resting on it.

Crowley gasped and ground his arse back, in need of all the contact he could get. Aziraphale tightened the hand around his throat and growled, "Answer the question first. Do you want a bit of rough play?"

"Yes, Aziraphale, yes! God, your hands are so strong! Just please fill me. Take me, Angel. Mark me. Let me wake in the morning and see where your mouth has been on my body."

“Hmmm. Green, yellow, red work for you, my dear? Doubt we’ll need it, but I would not want to really harm you.” He ran his nails lightly down Crowley’s chest and felt him tremble. “Color check?”

“Green! Oh so green, Angel,” Crowley cried.

“Good,” Aziraphale murmured and then latched onto that long neck, sucking and nibbling and holding Crowley firmly in place by his throat. His other arm crept around Crowley’s waist and snugged him tight against him, nails digging in a bit more, just shy of drawing blood. Crowley keened, trying to escape and get more at the same time. But there was no escape and all he could do was float into the pain as it crossed over into pleasure. Somewhere in the mists, he felt Aziraphale latch onto his shoulder and both hands lifted his arse, spreading him wide and bringing him back to settle on Aziraphale’s cock, still slick with lube and precum. Aziraphale steadied him on his plush thighs, letting him adjust to the fullness and stretch. "Color?" Aziraphale asked again.

"Ahhh...green. Good, Angel. F-F-Fuck me, my angel. Fuck me hard!"

Then his angel was thrusting up into him, hard and fast, driving him crazy with sensation and need and...fuck...was that love?! Crowley cried out as his cock filled up once more, demanding release even though he had already come minutes before.

“That’s it, my little demon,” Aziraphale growled in his ear. “Come for me. I want to watch you come untouched. Can you do that for me, darling?” Aziraphale wrapped his arm around Crowley’s shoulder and chest, just below his neck and pulled him in so he could watch Crowley’s impending climax, urging him on, encouraging him. He held Crowley’s hip to steady him as he continued to pound up into him. Crowley keened, “Aaaangeeel!!” And then he was coming again, painting white stripes on his stomach and Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale thrust once more and Crowley could feel the wet warmth spurting inside him, Aziraphale holding them both together, his breath hot and heavy in Crowley’s ear. He rocked them through their orgasms until the aftershocks died away.

To Crowley’s surprise, he was pushed forward into the sofa as Aziraphale pulled out. A wet warmth covered his hole, soothing and teasing as Aziraphale licked him. When the blond started sucking at him, Crowley whimpered and pushed back, needing more. Aziraphale’s broad, soft hands pulled at him, separating his cheeks to give him better access as he licked and sucked Crowley clean. Finally done, Aziraphale rested his face on Crowley’s back, tired and satisfied.

______________________________

“My sweet darling, are you with me still?” Aziaphale asked.

“‘M here, Angel,” Crowley said dreamily.

“You were so good for me, sweetheart. Would you like a bubble bath?”

“In that swimming pool of a tub? That would be lovely, but I don’t think my legs work yet.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Just leave that to me.” He stood and scooped Crowley up easily. Crowley grinned and snuggled into his neck.

“My big, strong angel,” he murmured contentedly. He watched from the shag bath rug as Aziraphale filled the tub with hot water and apple-scented bubbles. His legs were working by the time the water was ready and he climbed in first and held out his hand to help Aziraphale climb in and settle between his long, slim legs.

After several minutes of silence, Crowley spoke softly. “Angel? Tell me about your mum. What happened there? If you want.”

Aziraphale gathered his thoughts and began. “My story isn’t all that unusual, I suppose. My parents tried for years before I was born. They were thrilled when I came, at least that’s what Mum said. Then, when I was five, my father was killed in a car accident. So she was left with his businesses and a small child to raise. She found a family friend to run the bookshop. He’s still running it to this day, though I suppose that will end very soon when we sell it to Barnes & Noble.”

“She kept control of the greenhouses, because they were close to our home. She could manage them and still take care of me. It didn’t leave her with much extra time and I never recall her dating. When I reached my teens, she started teaching me the business end of things, hoping I would take over that and the bookshop when I came of age. She was also looking to me to continue the family name.”

“Really?” Crowley asked. “She didn’t notice your interests ran elsewhere? No offense, dove, but you may be the gayest man I have ever met.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, I was doing my best to hide it, but I was certainly aware she would be disappointed. So I just never dated, saying I was too busy between homework and the greenhouses.”

“ It all came to a head during Spring Break my first year at Uni. She point blank asked me if I could foresee carrying on the family name and tradition. I told her as gently as I could that I was gay and biological children were not in my future. She asked if I would consider marrying and having children and having a boy on the side to meet those needs. She was quite upset when I adamantly refused to consider the idea. I told her it would be unfair to any young woman to enter that sort of arrangement and would be demeaning to any man I loved to keep him as a dirty little secret.”

“We didn’t speak much after that. She tried once more to persuade me after my graduation. It led to us both shouting. I asked for my inheritance and vowed never to bother her with my presence again.”

“I used the money to buy an old diner that wasn’t making a go of it anymore. Two months later, I sold it to Starbucks for five times what I paid for it. I started Fell Enterprises with the profits. A year later, I bought the greenhouses from Mother and sold them to B & B Seeds. I made sure she had enough from the sale to keep her handily through her golden years. Despite the company name, she didn’t realize it was my company until we were signing the final documents. She was furious and refused to speak to me during the meeting. She shot me an icy glare as she signed the papers, stood up and turned her back, marching out without a backward glance. I never saw her again.”

“I’m sorry, Angel. How did you feel about her? Did you want to reconcile?”

“Well, I was very angry with my mother. I went to therapy for two years and spent around £25,000 to be able to say that. So let me say it again. Get my money’s worth. I was very angry with my mother.”

Crowley was silent a minute and then said, “Interesting fact, Angel. I am 1.15 meters from hip to ankle.” He lifted a leg and wrapped it around Aziraphale’s waist. Then he wrapped the other leg around, holding Aziraphale secure and snug. “That means you are wrapped in two and a third meters of sweet, loving acceptance for the bargain price of only £10,000!” Aziraphale chuckled and leaned back against Crowley’s chest, just enjoying the feeling of being surrounded and cared for as Crowley gently ran his fingers through the fine, pale curls and scritched his head.

^o0o^

As Aziraphale was toweling his hair dry, he noticed the sketchbook and a pencil on the counter. "Crowley? Were you drawing today, dear?"

Crowley zipped up and grabbed the book "Um. Possibly," he said, looking down.

"Now what could possibly be in there to get you all flustered?" Aziraphale asked, lifting Crowley's chin to meet his eyes.

"Sure you want to know. Angel?" he challenged. "Might embarrass you more than me."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. I really would like to see your work, Crowley. If you're willing to share it."

"Okay. But don't say I didn't warn you!" Crowley's eyes glinted with mischief as he headed for the bedroom. "Come to bed and we can look over my masterpieces together!"

Aziraphale hurriedly finished his hair and pulled on his pyjama pants. He flopped dramatically on the bed just to make it bounce a bit. Crowley laughed and snuggled up to him, notebook in hand. Aziraphale propped up the pillows so they could sit comfortably and spread the covers over their legs. He held out his hand and Crowley shyly gave him the book.

"Where should I start? And...James?" Aziraphale asked as he moved the elastic to open it.

"Start with the first page and what you wrote, yeah? I have a question or two. And...nope! Read it aloud? The quote, I mean."

"Very well," Aziraphale smiled.

**Always remember,**

**You’re braver than you believe,**

**And stronger than you know,**

**And smarter than you think.**

**But the most important thing is,**

**Even if we’re apart...**

**I’ll always be with you.**

**-A.A. Milne**

“So...you quoted Winnie the Pooh to me?” Crowley was obviously looking for an explanation.

“It is one of my favorite quotes from any book,” Aziraphale said quietly. “I have said it to myself many times, but never added the last line. Until you.”

Crowley silently thought about that. “Read your inscription? Please. I want to hear you say it. So I can remember what it sounds like when you say it.”

“Very well. You’re right. It is a bit embarrassing.” He cleared his throat and read, “Draw what’s in your heart. Let your joy and your pain out to beautify the world. You are remarkable. Yours, Aziraphale”

He smiled down at Crowley and was rewarded with a grin and a happy snuggle. “May I look at your drawings, dear?” Aziraphale asked.

“It’s your funeral, Angel,” Crowley smirked. “My only condition is, if you start, you have to look at them all.”

“Hmmm. Mysterious and rather ominous,” Aziraphale said. “But I’m feeling lucky tonight and I think I’ll take my chances.” He turned the page.

It was a drawing of an angel in full protection mode. His wings were spread, his sword glowed with righteous fury, and he glared fiercely at his opposition. He wore white robes trimmed in gold embroidery. His eyes were river blue and his riot of curls were paper white. Aziraphale blushed realizing it was him in angelic form.

“You make a perfect Principality, Angel!” Crowley smirked. “Look how ferocious you are!”

Aziraphale just reached up and gently poked one of the bite marks purpling on Crowley’s neck. 

“Oi! That smarts!” he complained.

“Then don’t test me, demon,” Aziraphale responded with a grin. “I don’t recall you complaining when I put it there.”

“Point taken. Just turn the page, Aziraphale. There’s still some more and I’m getting sleepy.”

The next page was a line drawing of Aziraphale in the Bentley, frowning down at the gear shift. “That’s how I met you,” Crowley said softly. “My first clear memory of an angel who obviously is better at flying than driving.”

“Are they all of me?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley turned his head and said, “Just turn the page, Angel.”

Aziraphale turned the page and gasped, turning beet red. Crowley covered his face with his hands. It was a colored pencil drawing of Aziraphale in the overstuffed armchair, with the viewpoint looking up from between his knees. He was nude; naked and hard and wanting. His eyes were half-closed and stormy grey. His mouth was open and his tongue licked along his bottom lip. His cock was red and full and a jewel of precum seeped from the tip.

Aziraphale put the open notebook in his lap and moved Crowley’s hands from his face and held them in his own. “Our first night?” he asked gently. Crowley nodded. “It is very...detailed. If I were not the subject, I would say it was erotic and full of depth and emotion. You have a marvelous talent. I am honored you chose me as your subject.”

“You told me to,” Crowley said softly.

“What? What do you mean?”

“You said to draw what was in my heart.” Crowley stared into Aziraphale’s eyes, hopeful and scared.

“Oh. Oh, my dearest,” Aziraphale whispered like a prayer. He crushed Crowley to him, holding him tight and showering the top of his head with kisses. Crowley snuggled into the embrace, feeling safe and warm for the first time in years.

“There’s one more drawing. I think you’ll like it.” Crowley said, muffled against Aziraphale’s broad chest.

Aziraphale picked up the sketchbook and turned the page again. This one was in landscape, so he flipped the book to its side. There was a grand piano, but no people at all. Looking closer, there was an abandoned white robe on top of the piano. Some crumpled red boxers lay on the far left of the keyboard. A drizzle of something liquid glimmered on its way down from the piano top, running down the front almost to the keys below.

“Oh, good lord,” Aziraphale said as recognition dawned, drawing another blush to his cheeks. "That may be the most sensuous still-life I've ever seen!"

“ 'Sensuous Still-life'. Yeah. I like that,’” the cheeky demon laughed. “I think I might paint it when I get the time and supplies. I made my boxers red to add some color. I have some like that now. I’ll show you tomorrow.”

Aziraphale closed the book and rested his cheek on Crowley’s head. “You really are a menace, aren’t you, my dear? How did I go from no one at all in my life to having it so full...of you?”

“You got lucky, Aziraphale. We both did.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments. I will answer each and every one of them. I have read them all and they warm my heart.


	5. Garden Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A garden party date starts off lovely, but Gabriel causes trouble and Crowley grabs his things to leave.
> 
> Aziraphale jolted back to life. He couldn’t let Crowley leave. Not without a real apology; a real effort to explain and tell him how he felt. He rushed to the hallway, praying that Adam had been on the ground floor and Crowley would still be waiting.
> 
> He stood there, gorgeous as ever, shades covering his eyes, but not the tears making sad pathways down his cheeks. “Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly, moving up to face him. Crowley quickly wiped at his cheeks and looked away.
> 
> “I was wrong. What I said was heartless and cruel and I didn’t mean any of it. I’m really, truly sorry. I don’t want you to go. Please. Please forgive me and stay for the week. And we can figure out what comes after. Together.”
> 
> The sunglasses covered his eyes as Crowley looked at Aziraphale. Aziraphale stood quietly, hoping with all his heart that Crowley could find some way to forgive him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs play a big role in this chapter.
> 
> "Dulcinea" and "Aldonza" are both from The Man of La Mancha and are written by Joe Darion. Crowley changes a few of the words to "Aldonza" to suite him better.  
> "I Don't Know How to Love Him" is from Jesus Christ, Superstar and was written by Andrew Lloyd Webber.  
> "You're Just Too Good To Be True" was written by Bob Gaudio and Bob Crewe.

Crowley woke when the shower came on.  _ I'm getting as bad as a cat running when they hear the can opener _ , he thought ruefully. Still, a smile crossed his face as he snuggled back into his pillow, waiting to see if Aziraphale would serenade him again. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes that soft baritone started up.

**_I have dreamed thee too long,_ **

**_Never seen thee or touched thee._ **

**_But known thee with all of my heart._ **

**_Half a prayer, half a song,_ **

**_Thou hast always been with me,_ **

**_Though we have been always apart._ **

**_Dulcinea... Dulcinea..._ **

**_I see heaven when I see thee, Dulcinea,_ **

**_And thy name is like a prayer_ **

**_An angel whispers... Dulcinea... Dulcinea!_ **

**_Dulcinea...Dulcinea!_ **

_ Oh! That was so soft. So beautiful. Was he singing that to him? _ Then something else hit him. Context.  _ This was from  _ _ Man of La Mancha _ _. Don Quixote, the crazy old rich guy, was singing to the kitchen whore, Aldonza, seeing her as a lady in his madness. So was Aziraphale talking about his feelings? Or was he reminding him of his place? A rent boy...an employee...and anything more was just madness. _ Two very different ways to take it and he had to know which way Aziraphale meant it. Before he opened up and let himself feel what he had been feeling ever since he met the angel. The shower turned off and Crowley was up and in the bathroom before he had time to plan what to say.

He skidded to a stop, transfixed as Aziraphale toweled his hair dry. Naked.  _ Of course he was naked _ , his inner voice unhelpfully supplied,  _ he just stepped out of the shower, you git. God, the man was beautiful. _ He tried to say something, but all that came out was a strangled, “Ngk.”

Aziraphale put down the towel at the noise and smiled.  _ Stupid angel with his stupid smile of pure sunshine! He wanted to ask him something. Something important. What was it again? Bollocks! _ He just stood there in his boxers and smiled back.

“Good morning, my dear,” Aziraphale said warmly. “Did I wake you with my singing?” The twinkle in his eye showed he knew the answer to that question already and was enjoying Crowley’s reaction.  _ Wait. The singing! That was what he wanted to ask! _

“Yeah, Aziraphale,” he said. “Had a question about the song. Two ways to take it, I reckon. It is a gorgeous song.” Aziraphale beamed happily. “But. It seems a bit spot on for us, no?”

Aziraphale looked puzzled. “What do you mean, my dear?”

“Crazy rich guy singing of love to a prostitute. Seeing her as a beautiful lady when she’s dressed slutty. Is that how you see...us?” He looked down at his feet and bit his lip while he waited for the answer, dread churning in his stomach.

Aziraphale quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and closed the distance between them. He wrapped an arm around Crowley’s waist and tilted his head up to look at him.

“I got into the shower thinking of how lovely and perfect you were last night, my dear,” he said softly, looking steadfast into those fearful amber eyes. “And the first thing that came to my mind was ‘Dulcinea’, because that’s how I feel...like I’ve been searching all these years and you are what I’ve been searching for. Crowley, my dearest, I know it’s ridiculous and I’m ridiculous for saying it after only four days, but I l--” His words were halted by the most loud and dreadful grumbling from his stomach he had ever heard. He blushed and Crowley couldn’t help it. He giggled, totally destroying the mood.

Then Crowley gasped. “Dinner! I totally forgot dinner last night. We got caught up in...other things. And the candles! Let me go check. Wouldn’t do to burn the place down!” He turned and rushed out to the dining room, leaving Aziraphale with his confession unspoken. Slowly the blond followed his ginger spark, not sure whether to be glad or disappointed in the interruption.

Crowley was busily throwing things away and cleaning wax from where it had dripped on the table. He looked up as Aziraphale walked in, still clad only in the towel.

“You’re my last, ya know,” he said, as he continued to work.

“Pardon?” Aziraphale asked, not really sure what he meant.

“My last trick. Client. I’m going to take the money from this week and start over. Get a place in a better part of town. Maybe go back to art school.”

“Well. That’s wonderful, my dear. Your art is marvelous and it would be lovely to see your talent shared with the world.” The words came automatically. All Aziraphale could really focus on was the idea of the end of the week and Crowley’s new life...without him. The future stretched out bleak and bare, grey as a rainy London winter day. He scolded himself.  _ Crowley was going to have a new life and that was more important than any feelings an old fool like him might be harboring. _

“Let me get dressed, my dear. Then I’ll finish up here and you can shower. I’m quite eager to see you in some of your new finery. We’ll go get some breakfast as soon as you’re ready.” He walked over, gave Crowley a quick hug and peck on the cheek and left before his sadness could spill over and tarnish the day.

Crowley watched him leave, eyes hungrily glued to the way the towel hugged that plush arse.  _ What had Aziraphale been about to say? _ His heart raced at the thought that maybe Aziraphale felt the same way he did. Then he scoffed at himself.  _ As if a man like Aziraphale could fall for a man like him. He certainly didn’t put up any protest at Crowley’s future plans. Plans without Aziraphale. _ He bit his lip as he stacked the dishes, refusing to let himself tear up. He knew what he was getting into when he made the Arrangement. He just didn’t know how quickly the angel would capture his heart.

^o0o^

Crowley was picking the last bits of wax off the table when Aziraphale returned. He looked up and stared in surprise. Aziraphale was wearing his tie! The deep blues of the night sky and golden yellows of the stars stood out against his powder-blue button down. His khakis hugged his frame snugger than his usual trousers and the navy blue blazer did wonderful things for his eyes.

“Who are you, and what did you do with Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, narrowing his eyes in pretend suspicion. 

Aziraphale chuckled and preened a bit, pleased with Crowley’s reaction. “I suspect there will be many people thinking that this afternoon. They will be wondering if you made off with me and left this changeling behind in my stead.”

Crowley walked over and hugged him, snuggling against his warm neck and nibbling a bit. His enthusiasm was very evident through his silk boxers. Reluctantly, Aziraphale pulled away. “Much as I would enjoy continuing this, you still need to get ready, breakfast must be eaten, and we must be on our way to the garden party.”

“Must we?” Crowley pouted. He was nervous about the party with all the people he didn’t know that certainly would not share any of his world. Whatever would he say to them? Staying here with Aziraphale sounded like a lot more fun.

“Alas, we must,” Aziraphale said, turning him toward the ensuite. “This is a business meeting cleverly disguised as a social gathering, and I have some important contacts to maintain. Also, I am quite looking forward to showing off my handsome companion and basking in the jealous stares I will garner.”

“Yeah, yeah. Flattery will get you everywhere, Angel.” Crowley gave him a wink and disappeared into the rooms to get ready.

Crowley stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash over him. Aziraphale was probably busy with emails on his laptop. Maybe he could be a bit brave. Sing a bit himself. Let himself admit his feelings here, even if he couldn’t tell the angel.

**_I don't know how to love him_ **

**_What to do, how to move him._ **

**_I've been changed, yes really changed._ **

**_In these past few days, when I've seen myself,_ **

**_I seem like someone else._ **

**_I don't know how to take this._ **

**_I don't see why he moves me._ **

**_He's a man. He's just a man._ **

**_And I've had so many men before_ **

**_In very many ways,_ **

**_He's just one more._ **

Okay. Maybe this was a bad idea. Just hearing the words were messing him up. He skipped to the end of the song.

**_Yet, if he said he loved me_ **

**_I'd be lost. I'd be frightened._ **

**_I couldn't cope, just couldn't cope._ **

**_I'd turn my head. I'd back away._ **

**_I wouldn't want to know._ **

**_He scares me so._ **

**_I want him so._ **

**_I love him so._ **

He whispered the last line, realizing...it was true.  _ Fuck. He was so fucked. _ He let the hot water rain down, washing the tears from his cheeks as he worked to push all that crap ton of emotion back into a box where it was safe.

Out at his desk, Aziraphale had frozen when he first heard the soft, pure tenor begin to sing. Oh good lord, the man was singing Mary’s love song from  Jesus Christ, Superstar . A song from a prostitute about what she felt was an unattainable love. And yet...he held his breath, waiting for the end. And there it was, almost unheard, but undeniably there.  _ Could it be true? Could Crowley’s feelings match his own? Should he say anything or pretend he hadn’t heard? It was all so confusing! _ He decided they would end the Arrangement that evening after the party. He would give Crowley the money he needed to start a new life and he would tell him how he felt. After that...well. He hoped Crowley would stay because he wanted to, not because he was contracted to. But he just couldn’t pretend Crowley was merely an employee to him any more. It was ludicrous. He hadn’t made it to the top in business by being timid. It was time to push for what he wanted and hope Crowley wanted the same.

Aziraphale tried to wait patiently, responding to some office emails and looking over some of the contracts for businesses on the Soho block. But his stomach kept rumbling and he rather missed Crowley.  _ Oh my _ , he thought.  _ The man's only been gone thirty minutes getting ready to go out with him and he was missing him? Ugh. It was never like this with Michael or the other men he had dated. _

Finally, he gave in and called to the bedroom, "Dear? Are you almost ready? We need to get a wiggle on to make breakfast."

Crowley came strutting out and Aziraphale thought his heart might have stopped. He most certainly couldn't breathe! It was like some rock star had made an appearance in his living room!

Crowley had put his hair back in those amazing Viking braids, making him look fierce and soft, all at the same time. New round sunglasses covered his eyes with metal shades on the sides, giving him a touch of mystery. His henley was a red as deep as a glass of Chateau Pape Clement and clung to his torso and arms, showing off all those long, lean muscles. He had the top three buttons undone, letting glints of copper hair peek out. The sleeves were shoved up, showing his lovely forearms. One arm sported a very modern wristwatch that glimmered black and rather dangerous looking. His waistcoat was also black and looked vintage, emphasizing his narrow waist. There was a scarf? Tie? Something thin and silvery, knit and ending with silver chain tassels, tied low and loose around his neck. His black denims were poured on like a second skin, artfully distressed so a bit of one thigh and the other knee flashed through. His boots had chunky heels and were made from black snake skin, as was his belt. The belt had an antiqued silver buckle shaped like a serpent’s head, the end of the belt hanging down so it looked like it was biting its own tail like an ouroboros.

“What did you say, Angel?” he smirked, clearly enjoying the effect his entrance had made.

“Ngk...ahhh...babb….” Aziraphale tried, but couldn’t get a coherent word to come out of his mouth.

“Get a wiggle on, was it?” Crowley glowed in triumph. He sauntered over and gently lifted Aziraphale’s chin, closing his mouth. He leaned in and whispered into the flushed pink ear, “We could stay here and get a wiggle on, Angel.” And he nipped the shell of that lovely ear.

Aziraphale yipped, then blushed down to his chest. “Oh, you tempter!” he breathed, stroking Crowley’s soft, flaming hair and toying with a braid. “We really do have to make an appearance at the party. But perhaps we could leave early? Come back and let me explore all the delights of your outfit? And you could show me how to peel you out of it.”

“Mmmmm.” Crowley stroked his nose against Aziraphale’s soft, pink cheek. “Can’t wait.” He straightened up and held out his hand. “Shall we get you some breakfast then? You need to build up your strength for...later.”

Heading down in the elevator, Aziraphale refused to relinquish Crowley’s hand, giving him side glances with a big, sweet dopey smile on his face. Adam tried not to notice, but couldn’t help smiling, too. Mr. Fell was obviously smitten.

^o0o^ 

The sun actually was making an appearance that afternoon. Aziraphale had introduced him to many people, none of whom he would remember. He had just introduced Crowley to a group of three men, teasingly referring to them as experts in getting married, but terrible at staying that way. The men laughed, but Crowley could see them eyeing him up and down, assessing his relationship with Aziraphale and how it would affect their chances with the wealthy blond. Aziraphale was called off for a minute, promising to be right back. Crowley was left to face the trio on his own.

“So. You’re Aziraphale’s new boy toy,” one of them smirked.

“Aziraphale is one of Wales’ most eligible bachelors,” the second chimed in. “All the guys are trying to land him.”

“Oh,” Crowley said with a big grin, “I’m not trying to land him. I’m just using him for sex.” He left them stunned and gaping, chuckling to himself.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale was trying to work his way back to Crowley, but kept getting waylaid by acquaintances curious about the very stylish bloke with him. “Where ever did you find him, Aziraphale?” one of Gabriel’s paralegals asked him.

Spotting a familiar shock of red hair just past the daffodils, Aziraphale grinned and said, “1-800-H-O-T-B-O-I-S.” He took off to reclaim his date as the young man figured out what he spelled.

Aziraphale stopped as he grew close, just to admire Crowley again. How had he ended up with the hottest man there? He shook his head in amazement and came up behind Crowley. “John?” he whispered in his ear. Crowley laughed and turned to hug him. “Nope,” he whispered back.

They mingled and chatted with the crowd. Aziraphale felt happy and content. Crowley seemed at ease finally and they were having a lovely time. Then Aziraphale heard that voice call his name, and he turned uneasily to greet Gabriel.

“Gabriel, so good to see you,” he lied. Like a liar. “This is my…dearest, Anthony Crowley. Crowley, dear, this is my lawyer, Gabriel Archer.”

“Ah. The infamous Mr. Crowley. Your fame precedes you,” Gabriel said with a big, phony smile.

“Just Crowley, really,” he said, reluctantly shaking the tall man’s hand. Something about Archer just put him on edge. Maybe it was his huge, fake smile. Or the way he made Aziraphale go all tense.

“Oh,” Gabriel said,looking down his nose, even though he was only a bit taller than Crowley, “so you’re the new guy that’s had Aziraphale’s head in the clouds. Never thought our muffin would ever float,” he laughed, poking Aziraphale’s tummy in a way that made Crowley want to snap his hand off. "Aziraphale, did you know Ms. Dagon from the bank is here today? Might be a good chance to chat about Shadwell’s mortgage.”

“Of course I know, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said with a stiff smile. “I’m the one who invited her.”

Gabriel punched his arm and smiled at Crowley. “And this is why I have pledged my undying love to Aziraphale! Nice tie by the way. A change from your usual frumpy ones. Well, off to mingle. Catch you gents later.”

When the American was out of ear shot, Crowley turned to Aziraphale. “Nice guy. So sincere.”

“I don’t like him any more than you do, dear, but he is a very good lawyer and has been with me for many years.”

“Are these people your friends, Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, looking around at all the chattering crowd.

“They’re people I associate with,” he answered uneasily.

“Well, no wonder,” Crowley mused.

“No wonder what?”

“No wonder you came looking for me.” Crowley smiled at Aziraphale and squeezed his hand. Aziraphale smiled back and the day once again was lovely.

“You know, my dear, there is a tent just past the roses with a small live band. Would you do me the honor of a dance or two?”

“Lead on, handsome. Just watch yourself, sir. I know you've been longing to get your hands on this arse all day.” Aziraphale sputtered and Crowley chuckled as they made their way to the tent.

People had just welcomed a singer to join the band as they got to the tent. The music started and Crowley put his hand in Aziraphale’s and his other on his shoulder. With a happy murmur, Aziraphale tightened his arm around that slim waist and drew him in tight. Looking into each other’s eyes, they smiled as the singer joined the instruments.

**_You're just too good to be true_ **

**_Can't take my eyes off of you_ **

**_You'd be like heaven to touch_ **

**_I wanna hold you so much_ **

**_At long last, love has arrived_ **

**_And I thank God I'm alive_ **

**_You're just too good to be true_ **

**_Can't take my eyes off of you._ **

Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder and shivered as Aziraphale softly sang along.

**_Pardon the way that I stare_ **

**_There's nothin' else to compare_ **

**_The sight of you leaves me weak_ **

**_There are no words left to speak_ **

**_But if you feel like I feel_ **

**_Please let me know that it's real_ **

**_You're just too good to be true_ **

**_Can't take my eyes off of you._ **

They danced through the entire set, floating in a mist of happy that had room for only two. They only had eyes for each other and didn’t notice Gabriel standing off to the side, frowning as he watched his colleague dance and smile with the unknown hottie that seemed way out of his league.

When the set finished, the pair started off in the direction of the food and drinks tent. Gabriel followed, looking for an opening. Just before they got to the tent, he called Aziraphale over and asked if he could have a word in private. Aziraphale excused himself and walked over to Gabriel, casting a few backward smiles over his shoulder. Gabriel led him under a tree to talk some business.

Crowley looked around and was surprised to see a familiar face. He wandered over and reintroduced himself to Newton Pulsifer.

“Oh, so nice to see you again, Mr. Crowley,” Newt beamed.

“Just Crowley. What has you so cheery? It’s certainly not seeing my mug again,” Crowley said, happy to find someone that was tolerable.

“Well, actually...I just got engaged last night!” he burst out excitedly.

“Who’s the lucky person?” Crowley asked, bemused.

“Her name’s Anathema. She’s ever so pretty and brilliant and I can’t believe she said yes!”

“Anathema? That’s an unusual name. I met a woman named Anathema a few days ago. Works in a shop and helped me pick out the suit I wore to dinner the night we met. Is that your Anathema?”

“Here, I have her picture on my mobile.”

“Yep! That’s her, alright. Small world, isn’t it?”

The two men continued to chat as Newt shared more pictures and stories about his beloved.

Gabriel watched the two men talking and looking at Newt’s phone and an evil suspicion grew in his mind. What if it wasn’t coincidence that the hot young man was hanging around soft ol’ Aziraphale?

“Aziraphale,” he asked, “where did you meet Crowley?”

“Umm...in Soho, actually. The night of your party. I was lost and he gave me directions.”

“I see. What does he do for a living?”

“He’s...in sales.”

“Oh. What does he sell?”

Aziraphale was getting flustered. Gabriel often flustered him and he wasn’t prepared for all the questions. “Why do you ask?” he stalled.

“It’s just...hear me out,” the brash man began. “You haven’t known him for long and he is rather out of your league. Maybe he’s here to gather information. Spy on the deal we’re making.”

“Spy? I rather don’t think so,” Aziraphale said, quite put out by Gabriel’s comment. “Why would you even think such a thing?”

“Well, there he is talking with Newton Pulsifer over there. And they seem to be having an excellent time. They’ve been talking ever since you came over here with me. Seems a bit suspicious, if you ask me.”

Aziraphale looked where Gabriel was pointing and watched Crowley laugh at something Pulsifer said. Then he touched the man’s arm and leaned in to look at his mobile, and jealousy flooded his heart. He wanted to march over, throw the mobile to the ground and stomp it, reclaiming his Crowley and whisking him off into the sunset. But he still had Gabriel to deal with, so he took a calming breath and turned back to the lawyer.

“Chatting with a man doesn’t make Crowley a spy,” he said. “Trust me, he’s not gathering information to share.”

“How do you know, Aziraphale? What makes you so certain?” Gabriel persisted.

“Because he’s a rent boy, Gabriel!” Aziraphale’s calm broke as he watched Crowley and Pulsifer share another laugh.

“He’s what?!” Gabriel looked stunned.

“A rent boy. Prostitute. Whatever. He is in my employ for the week to accompany me to social functions. He is not a spy.”

Gabriel started laughing and Aziraphale felt his face go numb. Why, of all people, had he told Gabriel? His head was not in the game when it came to Crowley. It wasn’t anywhere near the court.

“It all makes sense now,” Gabriel chortled. “I knew you couldn’t land anyone that looks like that! Aziraphale, you’re the only millionaire I know to go looking for a bargain basement hooker!”

“He is much more than that, Gabriel! He has become dear to me and you mustn't speak of him that way.”

“Oh, your dirty little secret is safe with me, Aziraphale.” And Gabriel walked away, still laughing to himself. Aziraphale watched him leave with a sense of dread cold in his belly. This was very, very bad. He turned back to find Crowley, but saw only Pulsifer talkinging on his mobile. Worriedly, he started searching through the people, looking for his date.

Unfortunately, Gabriel stumbled upon him first. “Hey, Crowley,” he said with his big, smarmy smile. Crowley turned to see who it was and had to restrain his eye roll with a mighty effort. He had removed his glasses when looking at Newt's mobile and hadn't put them back on. Made him feel more vulnerable and exposed. “Hey, Gabriel,” he responded, looking around the crowd for Aziraphale.

“Guess this is a lot different than Soho streets at night, eh?” Gabriel asked smugly. Crowley looked puzzled, then stricken as he caught Gabriel’s meaning.

“Yeah, Aziraphale told me how you met. But don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

Crowley put his sunglasses back on and looked away. Why would Aziraphale tell this hateful man? And what did he want?

“So,” Gabriel continued as he moved closer and he ran his own sunglasses down Crowley’s arm, “Maybe we could get together after Aziraphale heads back to Wales. I don’t usually go for men, but you seem pretty enough and Aziraphale certainly thinks you’re worth it.” He reached out and ran a thumb across Crowley’s bottom lip. “And when the lights are out, it doesn’t matter who the pretty mouth belongs to, right?”

Crowley jerked his head away, anger and humiliation making it hard to think. “Yeah. Sure,” he grunted. “Whatever.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Gabriel said and smacked Crowley’s arse as he walked off, chuckling.

The sun continued to shine, but everything felt dark to Crowley.  _ How could Aziraphale betray him this way? Guess it was just the Arrangement. He must have just been playing with the music and dancing...having a good time making the rent boy believe he was worth caring about. What was the use in trying? He would always be someone used and then forgotten. _

He had a good sulk going by the time Aziraphale found him.

“Oh, Crowley! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. How are you, dearest?”

Crowley stiffened at Aziraphale’s cheerful tone. Was he supposed to pretend he didn’t know about Gabriel? Play along with the act?

Turning away, he just said, “Fine, Aziraphale. I’m fine.”

Aziraphale was puzzled. “You don’t sound fine, my dear. What’s wrong?” Crowley just grunted in reply and refused to look at the man who called him dearest and darling and then casually told his associates that he was a whore. Aziraphale tried to coax him into getting something to eat or drink, but Crowley was having none of it. Finally, Aziraphale asked him if he wanted to leave. That earned him another “fine” and Aziraphale called the driver to pick him up. He didn’t know why Crowley was acting this way, but he had a strong feeling that Gabriel was at the bottom of it, and fear and despair licked at his heart.

The car ride back to the Ritz was tense and mostly silent. If Aziraphale asked Crowley anything, the answer was an icy “fine” every time. The ride up the elevator was the same, with Adam giving them worried side eyes the whole way up. They marched silently into the room and Aziraphale shut the door.

“That was seven ‘fine’s since we left the party. Another word would be appreciated,” he said to Crowley’s back as the red-head stormed into the bedroom.

“Arsehole! That’s a different word!” Crowley shouted at him.

“I liked ‘fine’ better,” Aziraphale muttered as he followed Crowley into the room.

Crowley turned on him, hurt and furious. “Just tell me this, Aziraphale. Why bother with the new clothes if you were going to tell everyone I was a whore? Why not just let them see for themselves?”

“You needed appropriate clothes and I did not tell everyone you were a whore. I assume Gabriel spoke to you?”

“Yeah. He wants to do me after you leave. Did you forget to tell him about my change of profession? Or do you have so little faith in me? You’re not my pimp, passing me around to whomever you please, Aziraphale!”

“Crowley, I would never! He thought you were an industrial spy, pumping me for information. I was taken off guard, and I told him the truth.”

“Oh, that I pump your dick instead? Because that’s so much better?” Crowley opened the closet and took out the empty bags from the day before and went to the dresser, dumping his new clothes into the bags. “I’m going home, Aziraphale. And when I’m back in Soho, I won’t even think about you!” Angrily, he started to sing. Aziraphale winced as Crowley sang Aldonza’s song.

**_You have shown me the sky,_ **

**_But what good is the sky_ **

**_To a creature who'll never_ **

**_Do better than crawl?_ **

**_Of all the cruel bastards_ **

**_Who've badgered and battered me,_ **

**_You are the cruelest of all!_ **

**_So please torture me now_ **

**_With your sweet "dears" and "darling"s no more!_ **

**_I am no one! I'm nothing!_ **

**_I'm only Crowley the whore!_ **

He moved on to the closet, grabbing the gown and suits neatly covered in their bags.

“But, Crowley,” Aziraphale cried, panicking, “What about us? What about the Arrangement?”

“Oh, you are an angel and I am a demon. There is no ‘us’. We’re on opposite sides!”

“We’re on our own side!” the blond pleaded.

“There is no ‘our side’, Aziraphale. Not any more. It’s over! I want my money.”

Numbly, Aziraphale walked over to the dresser and got the two stacks of notes he had put in the small safe for the end of the week. Without looking at Crowley, he tossed them on the bed and walked slowly back to the telly room without a word, too numb to speak.  _ How had this happened? They had been so happy just hours before _ .

Crowley looked at the money on the bed. He didn’t want it. His time with Aziraphale couldn’t be counted in pound notes. He had the thousand from the first night. It wasn’t enough to go to art school, but it would pay the rent until he could get a steady job and save up to pay for his education himself. Gathering all his bags, he blew past Aziraphale without a word, slamming the door on the way out.

Aziraphale just stood there. He glanced into the bedroom and saw the money still on the bed. Crowley hadn’t taken it. 

Aziraphale jolted back to life. He couldn’t let Crowley leave. Not without a real apology; a real effort to explain and tell him how he felt. He rushed to the hallway, praying that Adam had been on the ground floor and Crowley would still be waiting.

He stood there, gorgeous as ever, shades covering his eyes, but not the tears making sad pathways down his cheeks. “Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly, moving up to face him. Crowley quickly wiped at his cheeks and looked away.

“I was wrong. What I said was heartless and cruel and I didn’t mean any of it. I’m really, truly sorry. I don’t want you to go. Please. Please forgive me and stay for the week. And we can figure out what comes after. Together.”

The sunglasses covered his eyes as Crowley looked at Aziraphale. Aziraphale stood quietly, hoping with all his heart that Crowley could find some way to forgive him.

“I saw you talking with Newton Pulsifer,” he confessed. “I didn’t like it.”

“He just got engaged. His fiancee was the woman who helped me get my suit the first night. He showed me her pictures.”

“All I knew was you were laughing and touching his arm and...I was jealous. I didn’t like it at all.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Adam looked at the two of them, taking in their expressions. “Going down?” he asked softly, focusing the question on Crowley.

Crowley hesitated, then shook his head. Adam stepped back and closed the elevator doors once again.

“You hurt me,” Crowley said, staring at the elevator doors.

“I did,” Aziraphale agreed miserably.

“Don’t do it again,” Crowley said, turning back to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale felt hope flutter and shook his head. “I will try my best and do better,” he said.

“Well, see that you do,” Crowley handed the bags to Aziraphale and they walked back into the room, Aziraphale following gratefully.

^o0o^ 

They walked quietly back to the bedroom and put Crowley’s clothes away in silence. Aziraphale gave himself a mental pep talk, feeling their next negotiation might be the most important of his life. Crowley was just trying to keep it together as his feelings rocketed between anger and hope and embarrassment and definitely NOT love.

As they finish, Aziraphale touched Crowley’s arm gently. “Let’s go in the telly room and talk, my dear. I have things I need to say to you and then, well...it will be your turn.” His voice was steady, trying to hide the desperate fear burning in his belly. Crowley nodded and went to the next room. Aziraphale scooped up the pounds from the bed and tucked them in his blazer pocket. Then, taking a deep breath, he went to join Crowley and learn his fate.

Crowley kept his sunglasses on and stretched out over the sofa, feigning nonchalance. Aziraphale sat in the armchair, memories of their first night together intruding, making it hard to speak. Crowley refused to look at him, so he had to be the one to kick things off. Obviously.

“So, I would like to start by reiterating how very sorry I am. I had such a lovely day with you, and then I went and blew it. I may have lost you, and, if so, will never be able to forgive myself.

With that in mind, I agree with you that the Agreement is ended. It’s over.”

Crowley jerked his head around to stare at Aziraphale, a look of panic quickly covered by disinterest. “If you want to end things, why bring me back and unpack me? Needed it to be your decision instead of mine?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that at all. One thing that Gabriel didn’t mention was I told him you have become very important to me. I don’t want you to be my employee. I want you to be...well, as much as you’re willing to be. I want you to stay because you enjoy being with me, not for the money. So.” He stood and pulled the £10,000 from his pocket, walked across the room, grabbed Crowley’s hand, and folded the notes in those long, elegant fingers. “Here is the money. The money for your new future. You can go, if you wish. But I hope desperately that you will stay. Either way, getting to know you has been the best time of my life. And, if I may add, I would dearly like to have a small place in your future.”

Crowley sat up and stared from the money to Aziraphale and back again. “But...why?” he asked. “Why would you just give me this money? Guilt? Payment for silence?”

Aziraphale sat down next to him and brushed an errant strand of hair back behind his ear. “No, of course not,” he said gently. “We’re both consenting adults. We have done nothing wrong here. But I also believe in you. Deeply. I hope you will stay because I enjoy being with you. But I behaved abominably and would understand if you prefer to leave. If so, it would be my greatest regret in a life that has often crossed lines to get what I thought I wanted.”

Having said his piece, Aziraphale sat and waited on Crowley, wishing with all his heart and trying to remember to breathe. Crowley sat quietly for a few minutes that felt like eternity to Aziraphale. Finally, he reached up and removed his glasses and turned to Aziraphale. He felt his heart leap, hoping it was a good sign.

“If I stay, what would we be? Friends who fuck? Boyfriends? Partners? Will things change between us? Because, frankly, I’ve enjoyed...us. I’ve had a good time this week. I don’t really want to leave you, either. But I won’t be your dirty little secret...your boy of the week.” He lifted his chin defiantly. “I deserve better than that.”

“If it’s my choice? I think we’re already...friends who fuck.” He blushed brightly at that, but forged onward. “I would like an upgrade to partner. We’re a bit mature to be boyfriends, I think. I know it’s terribly fast, but I can’t help it. I’ve fallen for you hard, my dear. I-I love you. That’s what I was trying to tell you this morning. I want to be exclusive. Take you to parties and outings and lots of dates. Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz, just the two of us.”

“I know I am rather staid and boring next to you. Gabriel told me you were out of my league, and he’s not wrong there. And as you start your new life and spread your wings, you will undoubtedly soar high above me. Still, I’d like to be there to see it happen. To cheer you on and welcome you back home. If it were possible.”

“You’re joking, right?” Crowley looked at Aziraphale in disbelief and Aziraphale felt his heart crumble. It was too much, too fast, he knew. But he was tired of trying to hide how he felt. Whoever said it was better to love and lose was an idiot.

“You’re a fucking millionaire, Angel!” Crowley shouted. “I’m...nothing! You can’t love me. It makes sense that I love you, right? Handsome, smart, well educated. You’re a bloody prince. And kind. And you play the piano and dance and sing. How do I fit into all that?” He turned away, determined not to let Aziraphale see the hope dancing behind the fear.

But all Aziraphale heard was “Angel”. Crowley hadn’t used his nickname since the end of the party. And...did he say he loved him?! If that were true, nothing else mattered. They could work things through together if their hearts were on the same page.

“Crowley, my dearest, I know it’s a lot. But I think we actually want the same thing; to be together. Maybe we could just enjoy the week and figure out next week together? Find a way and a place for the two of us? Nothing else is really important to me. Surely between the two of us we can find a way. Could we try that?”

Crowley looked at him and bit his lip. “Yeah? Nothing else is important? Then play hooky from work tomorrow. Spend the day with me. Walk in the park. Feed the ducks. Have that picnic and talk to me.”

“Hooky? I don’t think I’ve ever not gone to work.” He thought for a moment and then took Crowley’s hand. “I think that’s a splendid idea, my love. I am the boss. I should be able to take a day off occasionally. And...I had something planned for tomorrow night. It’s why I wanted you to buy the gown. It’s a surprise, but will you go out with me tomorrow evening as well?”

“Really? You would just spend all day...with me? Are you sure, Angel?” 

“I’ve never been more sure, my dear.” He covered Crowley’s hand with his own and leaned in. Hesitantly, Crowley leaned in, too, and Aziraphale kissed him softly, savoring the feel of his lips for the first time, while his heart soared high, testing the limits of the sky. They broke apart and smiled shyly at each other, unsure how to proceed on this new path.

“So what next, Angel?”

“Well, first I need to call the office and tell them I won’t be in tomorrow. Let me take care of that right now.” He pulled out his mobile and waited for it to be picked up with a mischievous grin. He motioned for Crowley to be quiet.

“Hello, Deidre, how are you? Marvelous. I need to leave a message for Gabriel and it is imperative that he receives it when he first gets in tomorrow, but not before. Please tell him something important has come up and I will not be coming into work tomorrow, nor will I be available by mobile. He can send me an email if he must, but he should not count on it being read in a timely fashion. No, dear, nothing is wrong. Things are very good, to be truthful. I’ve met someone and will be spending tomorrow with him. Oh, thank you, my dear! I’m very excited, too. Have a good evening and I’ll be back on Friday. Tada, my dear.”

Crowley stared at him, his eyes huge. “I don’t believe you not only called off work, but told the secretary about me!”

“It was part of the message for Gabriel, actually. Deidre has a very hard time keeping secrets and this one is particularly juicy, no?”

Crowley laughed, imagining Gabriel’s reaction. “You are a bit of a bastard, my angel,” he said with admiration.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said smugly.

“Well, now that tomorrow is set, what would you like to do tonight?” 

“What would you say to snuggling on the couch and watching that show you like...Golden Girls? Netflix and Chill, I think they call it?”

“You do know what the ‘chill’ part of that means, Angel?”

Aziraphale leaned over for a long, slow, soft kiss that left Crowley breathless. “I believe I have a pretty firm grasp of the concept,” he said. “Though I think we both could use a lot of snuggling time first.”

“Popcorn?”

“Of course! And perhaps some wine?”

Crowley sighed and leaned into Aziraphale. “Sounds perfect, Angel.”

^o0o^

Two hours, a handful of episodes, and a bottle of wine later, Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, and Sophia were pretty much on their own as the snuggles had dissolved down into full-length hugs and long, steamy kisses.

“Perhaps, dearest, we should call it a night,” Aziraphale murmured as they came up for air.

“Ready for bed, Angel? Good thing you’re here. I’m not sure I can peel myself out of these denims on my own. But I have noted you are uncom...uncomm...really good at getting me out of my clothes.” Crowley giggled. The wine had been very good indeed.

“Well,” said Aziraphale, a bit sloshily, “here’s the thing. I had thought about maybe us sleeping in separate beds tonight. To show you that I love you for more than just that luscious body of yours. But now I’m not so sure. I missed you terribly while you were getting dressed and that was just half an hour. Separate beds would mean being apart for...many more half hours. Don’t think I like that much.”

“’S very sweet, Angel,” Crowley said, patting Aziraphale’s head gently. “But if you sleep somewhere else, who will get me undressed? And keep me warm and snuggly? We d’nt have to have sex, though it is a very good idea. But...don’t leave me, Angel.” And he pouted up at Aziraphale and Aziraphale caved like a sand castle at high tide.

______________________________

Even with both of them working on it, it took some doing to get Crowley out of those jeans. They were both laughing and gasping for breath by the time Aziraphale triumphantly pulled them off and tossed them across the room. Aziraphale’s clothes were strewn throughout the room and he was down to his pants. Despite the wine and the hour, it was obvious his body did not want to go along with the “no sex” idea.

“Tell you what,” he said, gazing down into Crowley’s golden eyes, “you just stay there and let me take care of you for a change. Would that be as good as the ‘no sex’ thingy?”

“Mmmm,” the red-head purred, “that would be much, much better. Diff’rent. Go for it, handsome!”

With a happy wiggle, Aziraphale took off Crowley’s tie and waistcoat, throwing them over his shoulder. He slipped his broad hands under the henley and started pushing it up slowly, kissing the new skin revealed as he went higher and higher. When he got to Crowley’s nipples, he stopped and savoured. Using the flat of his tongue, he stroked first one, then the other. Crowley started making little squeaky noises and trying to push up into Aziraphale’s mouth, but those strong hands held him firmly down on the mattress. When he could no longer resist, Aziraphale spread his mouth, taking in all of the right nipple, and sucked hard. Crowley bucked his hips and shreked, “Aziraphale...fuck...Angel!” Aziraphale gave him a moment to recover, then repeated on the other side. He pinned Crowley down with his belly and hands, leaving his love a shaking, gibbering mess, unable to move and filled with need.

And then the henley was off and they were both down to pants. Crowley’s were red and lacy and didn’t come close to covering him any more. He was hard and wet and pressed against the softness of Aziraphale’s tummy. The blond crawled up long enough for a fierce, filthy kiss, then headed back down, kneeling between Crowley’s knobby knees. He ran his palm from Crowley’s navel down, following the trail of dark copper hairs. When he reached that long, dripping cock peeking up from the elastic band of the panties, they both shuddered, feeling the sparks fly.

Leaning down, Aziraphale licked his bollocks softly, breathing warm air up into the red lace. Crowley’s hands shot down, gripping the pale blond curls and whimpering. He lengthened the stroke of his tongue, going from bollocks to shaft now. Each stroke took him higher. Each stroke made Crowley keen higher.

“Oh, God, Aziraphale! Suck me! Need your mouth...so good...so damn good.” Aziraphale licked the tip of Crowley’s cock, enjoying the salty taste of his precum while shoving off his own pants and kicking them to the end of the bed. Crowley’s soon joined them, wet from his desire and Aziraphale’s ministrations. Spreading his hands on those boney hips, Aziraphale licked Crowley like a lolly, taking his time and not letting Crowley thrust up, despite all his attempts. He chuckled as Crowley tugged on his hair, urging him for more. 

“Bastard...angel bastard...please, Aziraphale, please!” he begged.

“Please what, my love?” Aziraphale teased. “Tell me what you need, darling. You taste so very delightful...and you know how I like to take my time and linger over dessert.” He went back to licking, slow and deliberate, delighting in each and every taste.

Crowley whimpered and tried to form words, but thinking was so hard. Everything was so hard. Finally, he managed to say, “Suck me, Angel I’m gettin’ so close. So close, baby.”

Aziraphale hummed happily. “As you wish, my dear.” He took a hand from Crowley’s hip and encircled his base to get the angle right. Then, in one long gulp, he swallowed that luscious cock down until his lips reached his hand. Crowley was long and full inside his mouth, rubbing into his throat. Once in, Aziraphale moved his hand down to stoke himself.

Crowley threw his head back in a high-pitched wail, pulled Aziraphale’s hair hard, and thrust up with his hips to get even deeper inside that warm, silky mouth. Aziraphale let him, steadying his hips with one hand, while he stroked himself in time with the thrusts with the other. He sucked hard as Crowley pushed in, breathing on the downstrokes. A half dozen thrusts later, Crowley came with a shout, shoved up inside his angel’s throat. Aziraphale held tight, swallowing every pulse as Crowley came, lost in the feel and taste and scent of it all. Only when he had drunk it all down did he allow himself to come, calling Crowley’s name as he shot across his hips and belly, dripping down over his own hand, spent and thrilled.

______________________________

After they cleaned up, they shifted to Aziraphale’s side of the bed, spooning happily. Crowley was the little spoon and sighed contentedly, drawing Aziraphale’s arm tighter across his chest. Aziraphale lifted up and kissed his cheek, and then his ear, and then his neck. “Good night, Crowley,” he whispered. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Angel,” came the sleepy reply. Aziraphale drifted off with a smile on his face and his heart in his arms, more content than he had ever felt in his life.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be playing with the movie time line a bit more from here on out to better fit our guys. Hopefully, you'll be satisfied with this version and how it plays out.
> 
> I can't begin to tell you how much all your comments mean to me. I read them all and I am slowly answering each and every one. There is nothing sweeter to a writer than comments from the readers. Thank you for each one.


	6. Playing Hooky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley looked pointedly at Adam, but the lad was chatting with Brian about some science fiction programme they both enjoyed with them poking each other and shouting “Exterminate!” and he didn't notice the eye-daggers being thrown his way. Pepper noticed, but laughed at the slim red-head, chatting up Aziraphale again, just to annoy him. Well. He wasn't a demon for nothing!
> 
> Squeezing Aziraphale's hand to get his attention, Crowley stared into his bright blue eyes and slowly, obscenely, licked the deep red lolly from its base to tip. He gave a satisfied hum and licked his lips. Then he carefully slid the entire lolly into his mouth and sucked it. Aziraphale stared transfixed and gulped, paying no attention to the white drips starting to leak down the cone onto his hand. Pepper just rolled her eyes. 
> 
> "Here, Angel," he purred, bringing Aziraphale's willing hand to his mouth. "You're dripping. Let me get that for you." And he flicked out his tongue to clean off his hand. Aziraphale absolutely did not whimper.
> 
> With a huff, Pepper stood up. "All right, you lot," she announced, toeing at Adam's leg. "It's time we left these lovebirds alone. Before I vomit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this one posted. The next one will be out, hopefully in less than a week, to repay you for your patience.
> 
> There is a brief mention of abortion. Crowley's coming out did not go well and there is some homophobia from his mother.
> 
> Mr. Terrance is my homage to Sir Terry Pratchett. He's the bookshop manager and was a mentor to Aziraphale when he was young.
> 
> As always, the line breaks separate out the sex if you don't care to read it.

Aziraphale was rudely awakened by someone pushing against his face. As he struggled to wake and figure out what was happening, he could hear Crowley talking. Sitting up, he could see Crowley flailing his arms and muttering, "No, Gabriel! Get away! No!"

Aziraphale's face darkened as he listened. What exactly had his lawyer done to give Crowley dreams like this?! Putting his anger aside for the moment, he gently gathered Crowley into his arms, calling to him softly to wake him. At first, the red-head resisted, squirming and trying to break free. Then his eyes flew open. When he saw Aziraphale, he clung to him, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around his angel. Aziraphale whispered sweet comfort in his ear, stroking his hair and pressing kisses to the top of his head.

Finally, Crowley was quiet, snuggled up tight. Aziraphale pulled back just enough to tilt Crowley's head up so he could look into those big honeyed eyes.

"You spoke Gabriel's name as you were struggling," he said with a calm he definitely did not feel. "Please, my dear, what exactly happened between you two today?"

Crowley was silent a minute. Then he looked down and let the whole story pour out. He told Aziraphale what Gabriel had said...how he had looked at him...how he had touched him and made him feel dirty and worthless. He looked back fearfully as the blond grew very, very still; unable to keep the anger from his face.

"I'm sorry, Aziraphale," he said. "I know you have to work with him. I should have found a better way to handle it."

Aziraphale startled and stared at Crowley. His face softened and he brushed some errant curls back from Crowley's face.

"Crowley, dearest,  _ you _ did nothing wrong. Nothing! I was a fool to confide in Gabriel. And he will pay for manhandling you that way! I'm not sure yet what I will do, but he will pay for making you feel less than the amazing, remarkable man that you are!"

Aziraphale didn't sleep any more that night. He softly sang and comforted Crowley until he drifted off, cuddled snugly to Aziraphale's side. Aziraphale thought about the Shadwell deal. His heart just wasn't in it anymore. What did the world need with another fast food place or apothecary anyway? It might not need Shadwell's sex toy shop, either, but the place did have history and character. It was a lot more interesting than chain stores, for sure.

He thought about the bookshop. It had been years since he had been by. Mr. Terrance, the man managing the store, had been there since Aziraphale could remember. He was growing old and had spoken about retiring before winter set in. Selling the shop seemed easier than finding a new manager. Yet, Aziraphale couldn't help thinking back to when he was a boy. The shop had felt full of mysteries; treasures waiting to be found by someone persistent and intelligent. He had read in the light streaming in from the stained glass copula and dreamed of conquering kingdoms, righting wrongs, and helping the weak and fallen. Later, in his teens, he had fallen in love with Shakespeare and Wilde there, the classics giving him an appreciation for new philosophies and old, genteel manners. Many of his best memories were tied to that old bookshop with his name...his ancestor's name, really...painted above the door. He had been accumulating wealth for years now, and what satisfaction had it given him? Perhaps it was time to pursue passion and enjoy this time of his life.

^o0o^

Aziraphale was on his mobile reading and addressing work emails when the sunlight warming his face woke Crowley. Still wrapped all around the blond, Crowley looked up and grinned. Aziraphale felt the movement and smiled back.

"Good morning, my dear," he said softly. "How do you feel?"

Crowley stretched and thought before he answered.

"A bit sticky, to be honest," he replied. "Definitely need a shower before we head out. What's the plan, Stan?"

______________________________

Unable to resist, Aziraphale reached over and kissed the tall beauty. He only planned on a sweet good-morning kiss, but was soon lost in those lips that set him ablaze. With a groan, he set the mobile on the side table and rolled over to cover Crowley's body with his own. They had both ended up sleeping in the nude and they both quickly grew hard.

Coming up for air, Crowley gasped, "We could do both, ya know. The shower and the sex. I've some silicone lube in the loo. If you're interested."

"I passed interested and am driving straight for desperately longing, darling."

"You get the water running and I'll grab the lube then," Crowley said as he playfully rolled Aziraphale back, slipped out of bed, and made a wild dash to the ensuite. Aziraphale pushed off and followed, laughing.

Aziraphale stopped for a quick hug, rub and neck nuzzle, then hopped in the shower and turned on the water, making it nice and warm. He turned as Crowley shut the door behind him, triumphantly waving a small tube of lube. He admired the long, lean lines of the sexy tempter and ran his fingertips gently down Crowley’s chest, smiling as he shivered. Then he looked at his own soft tummy. “I guess I really should get in shape,” he said ruefully. 

Crowley just stared. Was it possible that Aziraphale still didn’t understand how damn sexy he was? How much Crowley adored his sweet, soft curves? Then a song filled his head and he grinned wickedly into those blue eyes so full of doubt. “Tell me about it. Stud.” he purred, thrusting his hip to the side.

The blond looked puzzled for a moment, then his eyes lit up.

**_I got chills_ **

**_They're multiplying_ ** , he sang, pulling Crowley in close.

**_And I'm losing control._ ** He kissed Crowley, deep and dirty.

**_'Cause the power you're supplying_ **

**_It's electrifying!_ ** Aziraphale flung his arms out as he released Crowley and took a step back.

**_You better shape up,_ ** Crowley sang with a grin.

**_'Cause I need a man_ **

**_And my heart is set on you._ ** He pointed at Aziraphale and wiggled his way forward into those strong arms. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and stared down into his eyes, loving how the water droplets clung to his pale eyelashes like tiny diamonds.

**_You better shape up_ **

**_You better understand_ **

**_To my heart I must be true_ **

**_Nothing left_ **

**_Nothing left for me to do._ ** Crowley leaned back and poured some lube into his palm. Reaching down between them, he stroked the lube on both their waiting cocks as Aziraphale joined him in the chorus.

**_You're the one that I want!_ ** Crowley stroked them together to the rhythm of the song, eyes closed, panting out the words.

**_Oo-oo-oo, honey_ **

**_The one that I want_ **

**_Oo-oo-oo, honey_ **

**_The one that I want_ **

**_Oo-oo-oo, the one I need_ **

**_Oh, yes, indeed._ **

Aziraphale held out his hand, eyes blazing into the dark honey browns. Crowley poured out the lube without losing eye contact, feeling on fire despite the water cascading down around them. Crowley started the next verse as Aziraphale turned him, back next to the shower wall, and started circling and stroking his entrance, silently begging to be allowed inside.

**_If you're filled_ **

**_With affection_ ** Crowley sang, then whimpered as Aziraphale dipped a finger in. “Oh, God, Angel! Feels. So. good. More!”

**_You're too shy to convey_ ** “Yes. Just like that. Yes.”

**_Meditate in my direction_ ** Aziraphale removed his fingers and lifted Crowley’s knee up to his hip. That long, limber leg wrapped around as Aziraphale lined himself up.

**_Feel your way._ **

Crowley cried out as Aziraphale pushed his way in, slow but steady, until he was fully sheathed inside that bonfire heat of Crowley’s center. He lifted Crowley’s other leg up to his waist and supported him by holding his arse in each hand, resting his back against the shower wall, and spreading him wide so his cock was completely inside. Crowley keened his approval.

The song was abandoned as Aziraphale leaned forward for a long kiss, every part of him filled with the desire to be in Crowley; deeper, wetter, longer. Then physiology took over and they had to break for a breath, concentrating on getting air and not water in as they panted heavily.

“God, I love you so much, Crowley,” Aziraphale said when he could breathe enough to get the words out.

“Show me,” Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale used his hips to pull slowly out and thrust back in again, making sure his grip would keep Crowley safe. Urged on when Crowley bit his lip, closed his eyes and threw his head back against the wall, Aziraphale picked up the pace.

“I. Love. You.” he gasped with each stroke. “You’re. The. One. That. I. Want.” His hips snapped as he pounded Crowley, nailing him to the wall.

“Lo’ you, toooo,” Crowley shouted, all restraint gone. “So cl-cl-cl”

“Yes. I’m close, too,” Aziraphale filled in for him. “Come. For me. Darling. You. Can do that. Can’t you? So good. So good. For me. Don’t even. Need me. To touch you. Do you, love?”

Milky whiteness joined the water splashing down Crowley’s chest and abs as his body clenched and he howled his joy. Aziraphale’s hips stuttered at the sight and then he was coming, too, dragged over the edge and falling right along with his beloved. Aziraphale pushed up against Crowley, keeping him safely pinned while his body went limp from his release. He rested his head against Crowley’s shoulder while he recovered a bit himself. Trembling, he pulled out and unwrapped Crowley’s legs one at a time and stood him up, leaning back against the wall. He peppered those high cheekbones with kisses until Crowley’s eyes fluttered back open.

“Holy hell, you’re strong, Angel!” he breathed. Aziraphale grinned and pulled him close, just enjoying the feel of standing skin to skin. Then, eyes heavy and bodies thrumming with afterglow, they took their time and washed each other down, hands still singing of love.

______________________________

Aziraphale walked down the curb, but it felt more like flying, like nothing could keep his feet on the pavement. The sun shone and the breeze whispered gently. He held a picnic basket full of brunch goodies from the Ritz in one hand. But it was Crowley holding his other hand that had him floating.

He had dressed quickly and casually, wearing a pair of light sand-coloured trousers and a white polo shirt with the top button undone. Compared to his usual three-piece suits, he felt almost naked. His arms were showing, for heaven’s sake! No tie! Even if someone from the office saw him out and about town, they probably wouldn’t believe it was him. He sat and finished the morning emails while he waited for Crowley to finish up.

He was worth the wait. Crowley came swirling out in a lovely royal blue sundress with spaghetti straps. The top part of the dress was form-fitting as a camisole, while the skirt flared out and stopped just above his knees. But the best part was the edging on the skirt. There were rubber ducks embroidered all along the hem! Most of the ducks were regulation, but the two in the center faced each other. One had a halo and tiny white wings, while the other had tiny red horns and a thin, curled, pointy tail. Crowley grinned and curtsied when Aziraphale laughed and applauded his choice. Most of his red curls were down and free, though he had braided a bit of the front on each side to keep it from blowing into his face. He was wearing his favorite sunglasses. Bright yellow sandals and a yellow straw handbag completed his look.

They had picked up the basket from the front desk and decided it was too lovely to take a car. The park was close, the day was beautiful, and the company was superb. Aziraphale had held out his hand and Crowley had taken it with a blush that thrilled him to his core.

“You know,” he confided as they walked, “I don’t believe I have ever played hooky before. From anything. Not school nor uni and definitely not from work. I believe you have been a bad influence on me, sir!”

Crowley laughed. “You’re how old again? Forty-eight? Don’t you think it’s about time you had some fun?”

“I’ve had fun!” Aziraphale protested. “And I’m not forty-eight...yet. Not till...well...July.”

“What have you done for fun in the last year? Hmm, Angel?”

Aziraphale’s mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to come up with something. “You!” he cried triumphantly. “I found you and it’s been fun and delightful. Best time ever, actually,” he acknowledged thoughtfully.

“Pfft! Pure happenstance, that. You didn’t mean to find me. You weren’t looking for fun. It just ran up and bit you on the butt!”

“Not yet you haven’t. But it does sound...intriguing,” Aziraphale chuckled. “And I wouldn’t call it ‘happenstance’. More like...serendipity. Ineffable, perhaps.”

“Those sound like fancy words for you just getting lucky in all the best ways,” Crowley scoffed.

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale said as he paused and turned towards Crowley. He reached up his hand and stroked his cheek. “But luck like that is uncommon...rare as a spring day like this or the beauty holding my hand.”

“Shut up!” Crowley grumbled and swatted Aziraphale’s arm. “Save it for the bedroom, handsome. People are starting to gawk.”

“Let them. I don’t care. You’re the only one I see.” And he just stood and smiled until Crowley stopped grumbling and smiled back.

^o0o^

They settled under an elm tree near the duck pond, spreading out a blanket from the basket. Inside the baskets were lots of lovely nibbles, including cheeses, grapes, sliced pears, croissants, and a small, chilled bottle of white. They took turns feeding each other tidbits, until they got to the pears.

Crowley wrinkled his nose. “I hate pears!” he declared, shaking his head.

“Really? Hmm. I like pears,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully. “Whyever would you hate them?”

“They’re soft and mushy and the juice drips down your chin when you bite them and makes you all sticky.”

Aziraphale picked up a slice and bit it. “Mmmm,” he moaned on purpose this time. “I like them because they’re soft. Mmmm. And mushy. And drippy.” He popped the rest of the slice in his mouth and looked at his fingers. Then he held out his hand to Crowley. “Aww. My fingers are all sweet and sticky. Help me out, love?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, but leaned over and opened his mouth. Aziraphale stuck his thumb in and watched as Crowley sucked it all the way in, rolling his tongue all around to clean the juice off. He closed his eyes and shuddered. Crowley held his wrist and started tending to each of the fingers, cleaning them in turn.

“Mmmm,” Crowley said when he finished. “Guess I’ve just been eating them wrong way before.” They grinned at each other and blushed. Aziraphale gently pulled him over, pulled off his sunglasses, tossing them on the blanket, and reached in for a kiss. It was soft, but they were soon lost in the silk and sweet of it.

“Ewww!” came a voice from in front of them. “Don’t you think you’re a bit old to be snogging in the park in front of everyone?” They startled apart and looked up at a young woman standing on the walk with her arms crossed looking down at them.

“Actually, my parents told me not to do that even though I’m young,” said the boy standing with her. He pushed his black-rimmed glasses back up on his nose, looking around for someone or something.

While Crowley laughed and Aziraphale sputtered, the pair was joined by a third boy with dark hair. They all looked to be of an age; near the end of their teens, almost ready for uni.

“Hi, Pepper. Hi, Wensleydale. Where’s Adam?” the new boy asked.

“We’re still waiting for him, Brian,” the girl explained. "He should be here anytime now. But these gents have taken our tree and are...ugh...making out under it!”

“Now see here, young lady,” Aziraphale said with as much dignity as he could muster. “We were not making out! We were merely...sharing a kiss. Which even ancient folks such as we enjoy from time to time.”

Pepper stared at him with a level look. “Oh really,” she said, arching an eyebrow accusingly. “Then what was all that finger sucking rot going on before?”

Aziraphale turned bright red and Crowley fell on his back, laughing too hard to stay upright.

Before he could regather himself, the fourth member of the group arrived, and to his horror, Aziraphale knew him. It was their elevator operator, Adam Young.

“Hey, guys,” he said as he joined the group. “What’s up?”

“We’re just talking to the tree thieves who were having a good snog out in the middle of everything whilst waiting for you to get off work, Adam. What took you so long?” Pepper demanded.

“Tree thieves?” Adam looked over and Aziraphale gave a small wave with a weak smile. Adam grinned. “Hi, Mr. Fell! Crowley! I guess everything is all better again then?”

Crowley sat back up. “Adam!” he grinned. “Good to see you. Everything is fine. Right, Angel?”

“Erm...yes...fine. Everything is just tickety-boo,” Aziraphale mumbled, not looking up at the teens.

“We have nibbles,” Crowley offered. “Would you lot like to join us? After all, we did abscond with your spot. Least we can do, really.” Aziraphale stared at him like he was crazy, but Crowley just kept grinning.

“We do not accept treats from morally bankrupt adults,” Pepper said primly.

“Actually,” said Wensleydale, “I do.” He headed over to the tree and plopped down on the blanket near Crowley. Adam headed up to join them. Brian looked at Pepper and shrugged, joining the other boys. Pepper sighed, shook her head, and walked across the grass to the picnic. The four teens made quick work of the food that was left, leaving only the wine behind.

Brian looked wistfully at the empty plates as Pepper engaged with Aziraphale in a lively discussion of the future of women in the workforce and whether gender would continue to influence salaries in the next decade. Crowley took pity on his angel, who was having a hard time getting a word in edgewise.

"Oi!" he said loudly. "Would any of you lot like an ice cream? There's a cart just down the walk a piece. If you'll go get us some and bring it back, I'll treat." This was met with great enthusiasm and the young gang were gone minutes later.

"Oh, thank you, my dear," Aziraphale said when they were out of earshot. "Young Pepper has very strong opinions!"

"Well, if you're out to change the world, you have to be strong. I like her."

"You would, you old serpent!" Aziraphale chuckled and leaned in to sneak a quick kiss before the youngsters returned. Crowley grinned contentedly and slipped off his sandals. He wiggled his feet in the soft grass and sighed. "Here, Angel, you need to feel the grass under your toes," and he reached over and started untying Aziraphale's wingtips. Aziraphale put up a token protest, but found it hard to object when Crowley was rubbing his feet. And when his toes sank into the soft, cool grass, he couldn't resist the little moan of pleasure that escaped nor the happy wiggle. Crowley sat next to him, linking their arms and resting his head on Aziraphale's broad shoulder.

The teens returned all too soon, giggling and licking their treats. Pepper had Aziraphale's vanilla with flake and Adam handed Crowley's strawberry lolly to him. Then the kids plopped down on the blanket to finish their own treats. Now, Crowley liked kids generally. He liked this group of kids specifically. But they were beginning to crowd into his Aziraphale time, and that he very specifically did  _ not _ like.

Crowley looked pointedly at Adam, but the lad was chatting with Brian about some science fiction programme they both enjoyed with them poking each other and shouting “Exterminate!” and he didn't notice the eye-daggers being thrown his way. Pepper noticed, but laughed at the slim red-head, chatting up Aziraphale again, just to annoy him. Well. He wasn't a demon for nothing!

Squeezing Aziraphale's hand to get his attention, Crowley stared into his bright blue eyes and slowly, obscenely, licked the deep red lolly from its base to tip. He gave a satisfied hum and licked his lips. Then he carefully slid the entire lolly into his mouth and sucked it. Aziraphale stared transfixed and gulped, paying no attention to the white drips starting to leak down the cone onto his hand. Pepper just rolled her eyes. 

"Here, Angel," he purred, bringing Aziraphale's willing hand to his mouth. "You're  _ dripping _ . Let me get that for you." And he flicked out his tongue to clean off his hand. Aziraphale absolutely did not whimper.

With a huff, Pepper stood up. "All right, you lot," she announced, toeing at Adam's leg. "It's time we left these lovebirds alone. Before I vomit."

Crowley grinned. "Are you sure? Don't want to stay and watch?"

"No, thank you!" Pepper said, pulling Wensleydale to his feet. "Thanks for the ice cream, but we'll be on our way now."

"See you later, Crowley," Adam said. "I'm working split shift, so I'll be back tonight after you finish seeing - "

"Adam!" Aziraphale interrupted. "It's a secret! He doesn't know yet!"

"What?!!" Crowley protested. "You told Adam but not me?"

"I needed Adam's assistance in a matter, so, yes he knows. But I want to surprise you tonight, my dear." Aziraphale explained softly. Crowley grumbled a bit, but let it go. He rather enjoyed being surprised.

The two men returned to their ice creams as the teens wandered off across the park. "You know, Angel," Crowley said with a hint of mischief in his eye, "your ice cream gives me ideas."

"How so, my dear?" the blond asked, licking the cold treat carefully to keep it neat and tidy.

"Well, the vanilla is like you.. soft and sweet and fluffy. And the flake is like me...dark and thin and mysterious. And…" he let it dangle for a minute. "The flake is buried deep inside the ice cream!"

Aziraphale was only partially paying attention as he used the flake to scoop up some ice cream and sucked it off. Crowley chuckled and Aziraphale's brain caught up. He gasped, swallowed wrong and started sputtering and coughing. Crowley laughed and gently rubbed his back until he could breathe again.

"You okay there, Angel?" he asked. When Aziraphale nodded, his face still flushed, Crowley checked to make sure he hadn't overstepped.

"It was just an idea. If you wanted, that is, I would be willing. If you don't want to switch things up, that's perfectly alright, too."

"Quite honestly, I hadn't even thought about it," Aziraphale said quietly. "No one's ever asked me that. No one ever even offered before. They were happy enough with me doing the...giving and them receiving."

"Really? They were all idiots then! But...that would make me your first that way," Crowley mused. He looked at Aziraphale and grinned. "I'm gonna pop your cherry!" he chortled, bopping that cute upturned nose with his finger. Aziraphale blushed and concentrated on his ice cream. Crowley put his head back down on Aziraphale's shoulder and hummed contentedly as he finished his lolly.

After they finished their treats, Aziraphale moved up so his back was against the tree and Crowley put his head in his angel's lap. Aziraphale softly carded his fingers through the fiery red curls and said, "So. Tell me a bit about your family. Where did you grow up? How did you end up in Soho?"

"What?" Crowley laughed bitterly, "you don't think sex worker was my top choice on career day?"

"My dear, if you had not led your life...made your choices...and ended up in Soho, I would have missed out on the best part of my life. So, no judgment here. I just want to know everything about you. Because, now don't tell Crowley because he'll dismiss it as romantic twaddle, but...I love you!"

It was Crowley's turn to blush as Aziraphale chuckled. "Well, it is romantic twaddle,” Crowley grumbled. But he looked pleased nonetheless.

"I'm not close to any of my family any more. No real surprise there. I bet you could ask all the sex workers in Soho, and no one. At all. Would say they were close to their family."

"My mum got knocked up by her high school sweetheart during their final year. He was determined to go to university, and he wasn't about to let her ruin that. So he dropped her saying he wasn't sure the kid was even his. My mum thought about getting an abortion, but a couple she met talked her out of it."

"They were conservative Christians and told her they'd pay expenses and all if she kept the baby and let them raise it as their own. She agreed and joined their church. But under the teachings she received there, she decided God wanted her to keep and raise the baby herself. The couple were very upset because they couldn’t have children of their own and had been looking forward to becoming parents."

"A month after I was born, my mother grabbed all the money from the couple she could find, packed as much as she could fit in a suitcase, and spirited me away to a small village outside of London. It was a small, quiet town, but she got a job at the inn she stayed at, waiting tables and cleaning rooms. She worked hard and the people who owned the inn took her under their wing. There was a basement and they had a small flat built in there for us "

"So I grew up there. My mum was very strict, both with herself and me. I wasn't allowed friends over, neither was I allowed to visit anyone. Our only recreational activities were church stuff. Mum wasn't happy when I discovered art. She refused to let me take art classes, saying it would lead me away from God."

"Somehow, she had no idea I was gay, though I knew since I was ten. I knew better than to tell her. If art was bad, just imagine what her God would have to say about her queer son!"

"Then I found a way to make us both happy. I became interested in angels and drew them constantly. Mum figured God had given me a gift to glorify Him. I found a way to draw hunky guys. Guys with wings to give them freedom."

"After a lot of arguing and a scholarship paying my way, she finally agreed to let me go to art school here in London and it was the first taste of independence I had ever known. I had a boyfriend or two, but nothing serious because I knew I couldn't take them home to meet Mum."

"Then, my second year, I met someone I was serious about. I explained that I wasn't out at home and he seemed fine with it. So I invited him home for Spring Break, telling Mum he was a fellow art student and my friend. Not a lie; just not the complete truth."

"But something happened?" Aziraphale asked quietly, continuing to stroke comfortingly through Crowley's hair.

"Yeah. She came home early from work one afternoon to find me naked, sucking my equally naked boyfriend's cock. It wasn't pretty. There was a lot of screaming on both sides. She told me to repent or to leave and never come back. My boyfriend was so shaken, he took a cab back to London that night and refused to return my calls."

"I packed my bags and couch surfed with a friend or two for the week, hoping Mum would listen to reason and at least hear me out. But the last time we talked, she called me evil...a spawn of Satan...punishment for her early sinful ways. So I went back to London and finished out the year because it was already paid for. We haven’t talked since. I tried sending cards for Christmas...her birthday. They were always returned unopened by the post."

"I got what jobs I could; busked drawings in the off time. But I ran out of friends to stay with eventually. I met this girl, Kit, who was looking for a roommate for her tiny flat in Soho. We got along okay, so I moved in with her. She was a hooker. Things were good for a bit. Sometimes Kit would try to get me to take a client interested in guys, but I kept turning her down."

"Then she got sick and begged me to take a client or two. I figured why not? It would help her and it paid more than the valet parking job I had. The first bloke was okay. Just wanted a blow job. Said I was pretty. Paid well. Can't say I felt great about it, but it wasn't the worst, either."

"Kit got better, but a few of the guys kept asking for me. And once you've already done it…." Crowley shrugged and looked away.

Aziraphale said, "It takes two for an arrangement, my dear. Two consenting adults. Did you stay safe?"

"Yeah. I'm a safety guy, remember? But Kit? Kit discovered blow. Soon all the rent money was going up her nose. I covered as best I could. Took a few new clients and begged her to get clean. She would laugh. 'Tomorrow' she would say. Until one tomorrow, she got a bad batch. She was found dead by the dumpster the next morning. She listed me as her emergency contact, so I was called to the morgue to identify her. I spent the rent money getting her cremated and buried. So. Took as many clients as I could and never looked back."

"Never looked forward, either. What was the use? In the last three years, I have seen exactly zero people leave that life alive."

"Well. Now you're going to have to change that number to one, eh?" Aziraphale said, stroking his cheek.

"Yeah. Guess so. And now you know it all. No secrets, Angel. Understand? From now on, we talk and don't assume. If I do something you don’t like, tell me. We’ll work it out. And I’ll do the same for you."

"Yes, indeed!" Aziraphale agreed with a grin. "We're on our own side now. Together."

"Well, what do you say we go feed those ducks, handsome? Together." Crowley stood and helped Aziraphale up. Hand in hand they took the frozen peas over to the pond. And when Crowley did more chucking the peas  _ at _ the ducks than  _ for _ the ducks, Aziraphale pretended not to see.

^o0o^

It was midafternoon by the time the peas had all been fed to the greedy ducks. They walked back to the Ritz and returned the picnic basket.

"So, my dear," Aziraphale asked, "would you take another walk with me?"

"Sure," Crowley replied. "What did you have in mind, Angel?"

"What would you say to a trip to Soho? I rather fancy a stop at my bookshop. You told me so much of your past. I'd like to share a bit of mine with you."

"One last visit before it gets gobbled up by big corporations? I'd like that, Angel. Lead the way."

Time flew as they chatted and walked, soaking in the rare April sunshine. Soon they were on the block Aziraphale was planning to buy and sell. They paused in front of Shadwell's shop.

"A sex toy shop? Really? I never would have expected this to be what he sells!" Crowley said in amusement.

"Rather thought you'd like it," Aziraphale replied. "Would you like to pop in and have a look around?"

"Sure! Why not?" And Crowley pushed the door open and stepped in before Aziraphale could change his mind. Aziraphale followed him as he wandered the aisles, examining the wares. Some of the items embarrassed him, while others seemed...intriguing. Crowley paid close attention to the items that seemed to perk his interest, filing them away for later. They didn't know the young clerk at the counter, but they said Mr. Shadwell wouldn't be in that day. As they left, Crowley turned to Aziraphale and said, "You're really gonna tear that down and put up a Starbucks? Seems a bloody shame to me."

"Yes," Aziraphale said softly. "It does rather."

A minute or two later found them outside the bookshop. The paint was a bit worn and shabby looking. It was called "A.Z. Fell & Co”. Crowley cocked his head and nonchalantly asked, "What does the 'Z’ stand for, Angel?"

"Hmmm, Anthony Jacob, wouldn't you like to know," Aziraphale smirked.

"Nope. I always root for the vampires, so I'm Team Edward, Angel. Nice try, though. I bet it will be easier to find out yours though. Google and all, y'know."

Aziraphale sighed. "Fine. It's Zion," he admitted glumly.

"Aziraphale Zion Fell?!! And your parents did that to you on purpose?"

"It's traditional! It's been passed down to the eldest male child for generations."

"Yeah, well, if we ever adopt, that tradition is going to end!" Crowley said, looking up at the store name again.

Aziraphale gasped and Crowley froze, realizing what he had said. He looked at Aziraphale for some idea just how bad he had screwed up, but the blond was still...broken.

"What I mean is...if, in some nebulous future we, that is, if you and I…." Crowley just couldn't think of any good way to make it sound better.

Aziraphale blinked, shook his head, and then smiled softly. "Look at you," he said. "Dreaming about the future. See? You will be that one to leave your old life and start anew. And if I get to be part of that future? That would be the greatest joy of my life." He squeezed Crowley's hand until he got a shy grin back.

^o0o^

The shop's hours were written and displayed in the window, but they were very confusing. Giving up, Aziraphale tried the door and was relieved to find it unlocked. He opened the door and stepped in, pulling Crowley with him.

The shop had an ancient quiet about it, steeped and deep and full. Although it had looked a bit dingy from the outside, light filled the main area, both from the shop front and from the stained glass cupola high above. The circular skylight glowed in blues and golds and sent rainbows to dancing in unexpected nooks.

There were columns surrounded by books, tall, sturdy bookcases full of books, and tables scattered and covered by yet more books. There were not, however, any people to be seen.

"Hello?" Aziraphale called tentatively. "Mr. Terrance? Are you here?" A tall, elderly man came out of the shadows in the back of the shop, a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other.

He read as he walked, skirting the stacks on the floor with an air of practised ease. When he reached the front counter, he put down his book and cup, tucked a piece of paper in to mark his place, and finally looked up at the pair.

"Yes?" he said grumpily, as if miffed to have his reading interrupted. "What can I do for you young folk?"

"It's me, Mr. Terrance," Aziraphale said. "I've come back for a visit and I've brought along someone very dear to me. I wanted you to meet my Crowley."

The man peered intently through his glasses at them, absently stroking his white beard. Then his face lit up and he beamed at them. "Mister Aziraphale! It has been quite some time! Do come in and introduce me to your young man."

Mr. Terrance ushered them into a backroom and seated them on an old sofa covered by a thin throw and insisted on getting them tea. There were books on the shelf behind the sofa and a globe near Aziraphale's end. He spun it idly as he looked around the room.

"It all looks just like I remember it!" he sighed happily. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Crowley could almost see the contentment soaking into him.

They chatted as they drank their tea and ate their biscuits. Crowley mostly listened as Mr. Terrance and Aziraphale reminisced about long ago visits and books they had shared. After a bit, a small group of customers wandered in and the shopkeeper excused himself.

"Angel, would you mind if I went upstairs for a bit? I'd like to sketch in that marvelous light. Just for a bit."

"That would be fine, my dear. I think I'll wander the stacks for a while. Say hello to some old friends from years gone by."

Crowley smiled from the second floor balcony, watching down as Aziraphale browsed through the shelves, occasionally running his fingers over an old spine, a peaceful smile on his face. That's what he wanted to capture - his angel amongst his books. He pulled his sketchbook out from his bag and set to work, a smile drifting across his own face as the drawing came together.

A while later, Aziraphale climbed the wrought iron spiral staircase to the second floor, looking for Crowley. He found him on his back on the floor with his feet bare and resting on the seat of a cushioned chair. The redhead was concentrating on his sketchbook and didn't even register when Aziraphale quietly sat beside him. He cleared his throat to gain Crowley's attention and said, "You know, my dear, most people put their arses in the seat, not their feet!"

Crowley paused and looked up into that smirk that had become so dear in such a short time and said, with an answering smirk of his own, "You can put my arse anywhere you want, Angel. But your seat would be much more comfy than the chair."

With a snort of laughter, Aziraphale gathered all those long, gangly limbs and, one appendage at a time, settled Crowley into his lap.

"May I see what you're drawing?" Aziraphale asked, nuzzling kisses into his long, lovely neck.

"Mmhmm," Crowley murmured, stretching his head to the side to give Aziraphale better access.

After some more heated nibbles, Aziraphale looked down at the sketchbook. Small drawings of the teenagers covered the pages; Pepper vehemently gesturing as she talked with Aziraphale, Wensleydale earnestly pushing his glasses back up, Brian catching drops from his ice cream cone and ending up with it smeared on his face, and Adam with his head back, laughing at something Crowley said. The blond sat up a bit straighter and looked from the book to the amber laughing eyes of the artist.

"Oh, darling," he whispered, "these are really quite good!"

"You think?" Crowley asked, a bit unsure.

"Absolutely! You should show them to Adam before we leave Saturday." Crowley suddenly lost his smile and slumped down. "What's wrong, Anthony Jeremiah Crowley?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "First of all, hard no!" he said emphatically. "We only have two more days. Then...back to Wales for you and...flat hunting for me, I guess." He sounded so forlorn, Aziraphale almost told him what he had planned. But there were missing pieces to his scheme still, and he didn't want to raise Crowley's hopes only to crush them later.

"Well, that was the plan," he conceded. "But, if it's amenable to you, I'd like to spend tomorrow evening coming up with something better. Something without the two of us being apart, but still setting you on your new path."

"I think I could be amenable to that," Crowley said with his usual smirk. "And you know, Angel," and he nipped Aziraphale's earlobe, "I can be very, very amenable!"

Aziraphale smiled and captured those taunting lips with his own. They sat there snogging, bathed in blue and gold sunlight, lost in their own world until they heard a loud cough from the shop floor. 

They looked down to see Mr. Terrance gazing up at them in amusement. "I do hate to interrupt," he said, "but the shop will be closing in ten minutes."

"Oh! Oh, dear," Aziraphale fussed as he helped Crowley to his feet. "We need to be heading back to the Ritz to get ready for our evening out! Come along, my dear."

"Wait," Crowley said. "There's something else I wanted to show you before we left." He opened the sketchbook and leafed back several pages.

"Here," he said, showing Aziraphale a sketch of himself at the garden party talking with Gabriel and some of his other business associates. Aziraphale stood in front of the others, his hands clasped behind his back, his forehead gathered in an anxious frown, and a tight, unhappy smile on his face. Every line of his body looked tense. Aziraphale looked at it and then at Crowley, eyebrows raised in a question.

"Okay," the younger man continued, "now look at this one from today." He turned to the page just before the teens. Aziraphale stood in the stacks, sunlight filtering down and turning his curls into a glowing halo around his peaceful, happy face. He caressed the spine of an old book with his finger like greeting an old, beloved friend. His body was at ease, perfectly at home.

"I know you see the difference, Angel," Crowley said softly. "But maybe you need to figure out the why's of it " He closed the book and slipped it and the pencil back into his bag. He pulled out his sunglasses and returned them to his face.

Aziraphale stood silent for a moment, then stroked Crowley's cheek. "Handsome, smart and insightful," he said. "How could I not adore you?" They smiled at each other, then Aziraphale took his hand and led him down the staircase to rejoin the rest of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is "You're the One That I Want" from Grease and written by John Farrar.  
> Thanks for all your wonderful comments! They make my day.


	7. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time for the big date! Fabulous clothes, a glorious event, and making some new friends make this a night for them both to remember.
> 
> "How did I live without you?" Aziraphale mused as he pulled Crowley onto his chest, stroking his ember bright curls. Crowley sighed contentedly.
> 
> "I dunno, Angel. But I'm here for as long as you'll have me."
> 
> "Ha!" Aziraphale chortled, squeezing him tight. "I've got you now, Fiend! You just bound yourself to me for all eternity!"
> 
> "'S'that so?" Crowley said, drifting off. "Lucky fiend, me. Bound to the bestest angel of them all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Gabriel gets handsy with Crowley in public. Sexual harassment is not just a bad thing in the workplace.

Crowley hummed to himself as he finished his eye makeup. He laughed as he realized it was “Tonight” from  _ West Side Story _ . That angel was making him think in show tunes! Then he sat still and held his breath as he applied eyeliner to each smoky eyelid. Finished!

He sat back and looked thoughtfully at himself. Aziraphale had sent him to the spa when they got back to the Ritz. His nails now glittered with a galaxy finish - midnight blue polish shot with multicolored microglitter. His toenails matched, but they would be secreted away in his Louboutin pumps for the evening. The beautician had swept his curls up neatly in a French twist, leaving tiny tendrils drifting down around his face and the nape of his neck.He felt like Audrey fucking Hepburn when she finished!

Aziraphale was still gone when he got back to the room, so he started getting dressed. He started with a short black cincher to give his waist a bit of a curve and let the gown flow better. Black satin panties fit snug and kept his bits tucked away. He grinned as he pulled up his black stockings, making sure the serpents slithering up the back were straight before he fastened them into the garter belt. He was really looking forward to Aziraphale’s reaction to them. He got the Louboutins out of the closet and placed them by the bed, pausing to admire the deep, dark blue leather set off by the bright scarlet soles of the shoes. He hoped Aziraphale didn’t have any insecurities about being shorter, because the five inch stiletto heels were only going to add to his height. Then he took his gown out and smoothed it on the bed. The midnight blue fabric of the skirt was tossed with teeny rhinestones that looked like he was walking through the night sky. He had fallen in love with the dress instantly. It was sleeveless and both the front and back plunged in a deep vee. The long skirt hugged his hips, then flared out enough to give his long legs room to move.

He considered his steps and pulled the dress over his head carefully, making sure not to muss his hair. He pulled the side zip close, smoothing the gown over his soft curves. The shoes were next so he wouldn’t trip over the hem of the skirt. Then he put a hotel robe over it so the makeup couldn’t mess it up.

With a bit of reverence, he pulled the bottle of Jimmy Choo’s Fever from the drawer. He’d never had such expensive perfume before, but the sweet spicy dark plum fragrance had captured him that day at the shop. He sprayed his wrists and neck, tucking the cut glass bottle back into the drawer for next time.

If there were a next time. It sounded like they would be staying in tomorrow night to discuss the days ahead. He was pretty sure they’d be apart for at least some of the time. He doubted that Aziraphale planned to take him to his home in Wales and he wasn’t sure he wanted to go, either. He wanted to finish up art school here in London. But that would mean being away from his angel. And how long would the blond be his if they were separated? Firmly, he set that aside for the night. Today they were together. So he would just enjoy every moment of it and let the future tend to itself.

He smiled when he heard the door to their suite open and sauntered out to the living room, only to stop dead and stare. The bloody angel just took his breath away! Aziraphale was wearing a snow white tuxedo with tails, white leather shoes, and a white tuxedo shirt with pearl buttons. His usual bowtie had been replaced by one that was a blue so dark it was just this side of black, shot through with scarlet threads. Instead of his waistcoat, a scarlet cumberbund lent the only other dash of color. When he saw Crowley, his smile faded into awe and the two of them stood there just staring at each other.

Aziraphale found his voice first. Soft and low and heated, he quoted,

**_He walks in beauty, like the night_ **

**_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_ **

**_And all that’s best of dark and bright_ **

**_Meet in his aspect and his eyes;_ **

**_Thus mellowed to that tender light_ **

**_Which heaven to gaudy day denies._ **

Crowley drank it in, rapt in attention. Then he shook his head and grinned. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Angel.”

  
  


They stood grinning at each other foolishly for another moment or two, then Aziraphale said, “I have something for you. Now, don’t get too excited, my dear. It’s on loan, not a gift.” He held out a blue velvet jewelry box and opened it. Crowley came close and gasped at the necklace inside.

A black and red serpent entwined around a delicate silvery chain. The golden gem eyes glittered against the matte black stones on the top of the snake, while the clear, deep red of its underbelly sparkled a bit where it caught the light. Crowley reached out a hand to touch it. The snake moved easily on the chain looking almost alive. “Oooh, Aziraphale!” he cooed. “It’s beautiful!” 

“Not as lovely as you, my dear, but I thought you would like it. Let’s go to the bathroom and I’ll put it on you so we can see just how fetching this little serpent will look snuggled under your neck.”

As Aziraphale fastened the clasp, he said, “I didn’t quite have the liquid assets for it right now, but perhaps when the contracts are signed tomorrow, we can have a talk with the jeweler.”

Crowley put his hand up, stroking the gem-studded snake softly. “Just how much would this be to buy?” he wondered.

“Oh, around three hundred,” Aziraphale replied.

“Three hundred pounds?” Crowley asked, never having any necklace that cost that much before.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Three hundred thousand pounds, my dear. Those are black diamonds, rubies and yellow diamonds for the eyes. It’s all set in rose gold on a platinum chain.”

Crowley’s eyes grew big. “Three hundred thousand?!” he gasped. “Angel, it’s beautiful, but there’s so much we could do with that money instead. It’s enough for a house, for fuck’s sake!”

“You’re worth it to me, you know,” Aziraphale said quietly, wrapping his arms around his slender waist. "But we can discuss it later. For now, we need to get a wiggle on to make sure we’re not late.”

With a grin, Crowley wiggled his arse back against Aziraphale, snickering at his rising interest.

“Stop that, you fiend!” Aziraphale scolded with a smile, stepping back and offering his arm to his lovely date. Crowley bobbed in a little curtsey and tucked his hand into the crook of Aziraphale’s arm, glowing with happiness and anticipation.

^o0o^

When they stepped out of the elevator, heads turned to look at the elegantly dressed couple. Crowley stopped, uncertain and uncomfortable. But Aziraphale patted his hand and whispered, "Buck up, my dear!" Crowley took a deep breath, lifted his chin, and glided out like he was sauntering down a catwalk.

"You're quite lovely when you're not fidgeting," Aziraphale said with a smile, looking up at the slim redhead. "And tall," he added. Crowley smirked down into those ocean-blue eyes and his nerves flew away. He was with Aziraphale and nothing else mattered.

^o0o^

"Sooo...where are we going again?" Crowley asked with all the innocence he could muster.

Aziraphale chuckled. "You'll know very soon, my dear," he said as their car pulled away from the curb. "You smell intoxicating, by the way."

Crowley was not to be distracted. "Annnngeeell!!" he whined. Aziraphale just smiled smugly. Crowley let his hand drop onto his lover's crotch. "Oops," he said with great insincerity.

Aziraphale huffed. "Please move your hand, darling."

With an angelic smile of his own, Crowley said, "Of course, love" and rubbed firmly down on Aziraphale's cock. He couldn't maintain the innocence, smirking at the involuntary gasp from the man next to him. Crowley leaned over and whispered in his angel's ear, "I could keep moving my hand. Or I could pull you out and mark you with my lipstick as I swallow you down. Tuck you away so you could spend the date knowing it was there, staining your cock red with my love." Aziraphale couldn't stop the needy whine or his hardening cock. He stayed as still as possible as Crowley unzipped him and pulled him out, already starting to leak.

"God, you're gorgeous, Angel," Crowley whispered. "Quiet now. Don't want to disturb the driver."

Aziraphale bit his lip to keep from crying out as he was enveloped in that sweet, hot, wet warmth. After swallowing him to the base and leaving a ring of red lip prints, Crowley released him and covered the underside of his shaft with quick, messy kisses. Then he pulled back and admired his work. Satisfied, he tucked Aziraphale back into his trousers and zipped him back up.

The blond whined in disappointment. "My dear," he said breathlessly, "perhaps we have time -"

He was interrupted by the driver saying, "We are almost there, Mr. Fell. I'll stop and let you and your date out in front, then park and await your call."

Crowley looked out the window and squealed. “ _ Hamilton _ ?!!” he said excitedly. “We’re seeing  _ Hamilton _ ?” Aziraphale smiled and nodded, watching Crowley's excitement raptly. Part of him wanted to tell the driver just to take them back home to the hotel. But seeing those amber eyes sparkle and hearing the excitement in his voice made up for having to wait. He could be patient. With a sigh, he got out of the car and opened Crowley’s door for him. He held out his arm and Crowley snuggled his hand into the crook of it, and, together they walked up the steps to the Victoria Palace Theatre.

Crowley stared around, trying to soak it all in at once; the people dressed in their best, the beauty of the old theater, and the excited hum of anticipation in the air. Aziraphale showed their tickets to an usher and they climbed the stairs to the third floor. The lounge was filled with people dressed in gowns and tuxedos, nibbling on hors d'oeuvres and sipping wine. Aziraphale led him through the room, introducing him to people he knew as they made their way to the tables laden with food and drinks. Some people seemed a bit surprised when he was introduced as Aziraphale’s partner, but quickly recovered. This was Mr. Fell, after all, and most people wanted to stay on his good side.

Crowley stood to one side holding their plates as Aziraphale was getting their drinks. A young boy paused and looked at Crowley intently. He was about fourteen or so, dressed all in black, with dark hair to his shoulders and piercing blue eyes, narrowed at Crowley as he looked him up and down. Crowley looked back and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“You’re a man,” the boy finally said. “Why are you wearing a dress? Dresses are for women.”

“Well,...” Crowley paused to wait for a name.

“Warlock. Warlock Dowling,” the boy supplied sullenly.

Crowley smiled back. “Well, Warlock. I’m Crowley and it is nice to meet you. And just look at this gown! Isn’t it fabulous? And I wanted to look fabulous tonight. And,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “just between you and me, dresses are extremely comfortable. And there aren’t really any rules about who can wear what. Wear what makes you feel good, I always say.”

The boy frowned and thought about it. “Hmm. Alright then,” he said. “But don’t people make fun of you? Blokes, I mean. The guys at school make fun of me just because I wear my hair long.”

“Well, yeah. Sometimes. But that sort of person is going to make fun of something, no matter what you do. I’ve been mocked for my red hair, my skinny body, my fashion choices and my sexual preference. It’s always something. So I think you should be as much you as you can be. All the rest is rubbish. There’s only one of you, yeah? So find what you like and be that.”

“Won’t I get beat up? Have you been beaten up? For liking guys and dresses and such?”

“Possibly. Life isn’t always kind, Warlock. Might want to take some self-defense classes. Martial arts or some such. But sometimes, life throws in some good stuff, too. I got lucky. Found a man who’s smart and clever and handsome. Sometimes I think he’s an actual-to-God angel. He makes me laugh. And he believes in me. That’s worth the beatings that came before.”

“And he’s standing right behind you,” Aziraphale said with a smile as he joined them. “But, please do go on. Tell us more about this angel of yours.”

Crowley’s ears tinged red, but he grinned and said, “Oh, I’ll tell you all about him later. But, for now, let me introduce you to my new friend. Warlock, this is my partner, Aziraphale Fell. Angel, this is Warlock. We were discussing the importance of being true to yourself.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear. But I do believe your parents are looking for you.” Aziraphale pointed to a young couple looking around frantically.

Warlock rolled his eyes. “Oops!” he said, without a trace of remorse. “I better go. Bye, Aziraphale. And, thanks, Crowley. You’re okay. For a grownup. And you do look fabulous,” he said with a grin. Then he hurried off and rejoined his parents.

“You know, Angel, that’s the first time I’ve introduced you that way. As my partner. It was...a thing, it was.”

Aziraphale gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. “Well, I quite enjoyed it. Made me feel all tingly,” he whispered in his ear. He handed the wine to Crowley and they enjoyed their nibbles together quietly.

“Hey, Angel? How did you score tickets for this? It’s been sold out forever,” Crowley asked.

“Oh, I have season tickets, my dear. I’ve had these box seats for years.”

“But. You haven’t been in London for the last year, you said. What did you do with the tickets?”

Aziraphale looked embarrassed and then looked down at his feet. “I...gave them away.”

“You what?” Crowley asked in amazement.

“I gave them away! Donated them to charity auctions and such. They always fetched a good price and it isn’t as much fun coming alone. I hadn’t given these away because I was planning to come to London anyway. Thought perhaps a business associate would like to join me. Though I never dreamed I would be sitting with such a dazzling beauty, my dear.”

He looked up to see Crowley staring at him, his heart in his eyes and a flush on his cheeks from the compliment. Then an usher announced it was fifteen minutes until the lights would dim and they returned their glasses and plates and started for their box, Crowley floating happily on Aziraphale’s arm.

They walked through the door and Crowley was amazed. They were up so very high, close to the left side of the stage. “Oh, I want to look over everyone and everything!” he exclaimed as he headed to the railing. Aziraphale held his hand and stopped him.

“Please, no, dear. You know how I feel about...falling.”

“But, Aziraphale…” Crowley started to argue, but the pain and fear in Aziraphale’s eyes stopped him. It wasn’t that big a deal in the long run. He had plenty of demons of his own not to go poking at Aziraphale's. “Never mind, Angel,” he said softly. “We’ll just sit in the chairs and look from there, yeah?”

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a sigh of relief. “I know it’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. But...I couldn’t bear to lose you...to see you fall.” He closed his eyes and shook his head at images he couldn’t stop from playing through his mind.

“Hey. Hey, Angel. I’m right here.” Crowley squeezed the warm, broad hand in his, grounding Aziraphale and bringing him back to the present. “Let’s go sit, okay?”

“Okay,” Aziraphale said shakily. He followed Crowley and sat beside him. Crowley opened his program and asked the blond some questions about the actors and soon Aziraphale was his usual cheerful, chatty self; the fear gone like a brief summer downpour.

The lights dimmed and Aziraphale reached to the side of his seat and pulled out something. With a flick of his wrist, he had what looked like a small pair of binoculars. "They're called opera glasses," he explained. "You have a pair, too."

Crowley checked and found his. But when he pulled them out, the lenses laid against the rod uselessly. He tried waving it around a bit, but to no avail.

"Aziraphale, mine's broken!" he grumbled, waving it to show him.

"They look that way," Aziraphale said, covering Crowley’s hand holding the rod. "But you just flip them...like so." He helped Crowley flick the rod and it neatly flipped the lenses over the rod to the other side, locking them in place.

The lights went down, the curtain went up, and the music began. Crowley settled in with his hand laced in Aziraphale's, the warmth of his hand and the plush thigh under it the only anchor to the present as he immersed himself in the excitement of the long-ago revolution.

^o0o^

Crowley had been so excited when intermission came. For once, he was the one chattering happily about his favorite bits of the show and Aziraphale had listened and nodded, his bemused smile widening into a full-on beam as he enjoyed Crowley’s enthusiasm. They walked together to the second floor to use the facilities there. Even though the line was longer, Crowley decided to use the ladies’ loo while Aziraphale used the men’s. Gowns had their disadvantages and were rubbish if you needed to use a urinal. The line for the women's room was long, but Crowley was too floaty from the musical to really mind the wait.

As Aziraphale kissed his cheek and left, the dark haired lady in line just in front of him turned to look. “Pardon me for asking,” she said, obviously American, “but are you...Crowley?”

“Depends. Who wants to know?” Crowley grinned, echoing Burr’s words to Hamilton when they met.

“I’m Harriet Dowling,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m Warlock’s mother.”

“Ohhh. I thought you looked a bit familiar. He seems very bright. I like him.”

“He liked you, too. He told me what you said...about being true to yourself and ignoring the haters. Thank you for that. I’ve tried telling him the same, but sometimes it means more coming from someone other than family.”

Crowley squirmed a bit under her praise and was about to say it was nothing when an all-too-familiar voice interrupted him.

“Crowley? Is that you?” came Gabriel’s voice from behind him. Why oh why did it have to be him? With a sigh, Crowley turned and tried to put on a polite smile.

“It is you! Well, don’t you clean up good,” the tall American said with his usual fake smile. “Nice necklace. Did Aziraphale buy that for you?”

“It’s on loan from the jeweler’s,” Crowley said in a low voice, wishing he had braved the men’s loo instead.

Gabriel chuckled. “Aziraphale seems to have a thing for borrowing pretty toys and giving them back when he’s done playing, doesn’t he?” He stepped up and hugged Crowley, pinning his arms down and leaning in to whisper, “Diedre said he booked a car for Saturday afternoon to return to Wales. A car for one. Looks like we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other after he leaves.” And he wandered his hand down and squeezed Crowley’s arse.

Crowley turned bright red and struggled to get out of the strong arms holding him helpless. “Let go of me, Gabriel!” he hissed, stomping on the lawyer’s shiny black shoe. Harriet had taken out her mobile by this time and was recording the altercation. “I don’t know who you are,” she said firmly, “but you were asked to let him go. And I am quite certain he doesn’t want your hand on his butt!”

Gabriel just laughed and crushed Crowley tighter, amused at his struggles and the woman standing up for him.

“I don’t know you, either, lady, but this is between the princess and me, so butt yourself out,” he retorted.

“Gabriel Archer, I do believe Crowley made his wishes quite clear,” said a deadly calm voice. “Unhand my partner at once!”

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, startled. “I was just saying hello. Being friendly.” He released Crowley and put his hands up, trying to soothe the man he answered to.

Crowley growled and kicked his shin. “Yeah, well, consider that as my goodbye, you bloody wanker!”

Aziraphale took a step over and put his arm around Crowley’s waist. “I think you should leave, Mr. Archer. I obviously was not sufficiently clear about the consequences of you putting your hands on what is mine. And yes, there will indeed be consequences that I think you will find most unpleasant. I will see you at the office tomorrow morning to discuss this.”

“Yes, well, consider this, Aziraphale. Who earns you money and who costs you money? Hmm?” With another smug grin, Gabriel turned and left, disappearing back into the crowd of theater-goers.

“Are you alright, my dearest?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley just buried his face in his angel’s shoulder and clung on tightly.

“Excuse me,” Harriet said quietly. “Crowley and I were talking when that man showed up. I got most of the episode recorded on my phone. I would be glad to send you the video and act as a witness if you want to press charges.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale said. “I’m Aziraphale Fell. And you are?”

“She’s the boy’s mum,” Crowley said, getting himself together. “You know...Warlock? She’s Harriet Dowling.”

“More important here, I think, is the fact that I’m the wife of the American ambassador. I do believe that man was one of ours, was he not?”

“Gabriel is indeed an American, though he has been in England the past six years. Thank you for your kind offer and support. Let me give you my mobile information. I would indeed like to see exactly what transpired here.”

Aziraphale and Harriet continued to talk as the line progressed to the loo. By the time he was at the front of the line, Crowley had gone from shaken to just plain angry. Though he kept hearing Gabriel saying, “A car for one.” Was Aziraphale planning on abandoning him? Surely not. They were in love. And yet... “Aziraphale seems to have a thing for borrowing pretty toys and giving them back when he’s done playing, doesn’t he?” No! He pushed down that voice of stupid doubt. He trusted his angel and Gabriel was nothing but a liar.

^o0o^

Returning to their seats for the second act, Crowley put his head on Aziraphale's shoulder and snuggled close when Aziraphale put his arm around him. He hated that Gabriel could make him feel so small and uncertain. He looked up and Aziraphale was smiling down at him.

"Don't worry, my dear. I’ve got you. And you’ve got me, Crowley.” Aziraphale kissed his forehead as the curtains open and Crowley pushed aside his fears and doubts and relaxed into the warmth of Aziraphale holding him.

But the second half of the play was sad. Alexander’s son, Philip, died in a duel. Alexander had an affair while his family was out of town. When faced with exposure, he chose to admit his indiscretion publicly to protect the office of the Treasury rather than protect his marriage and family. He and Eliza found a way through it eventually, but it took a heavy toll on their relationship. And then Alexander himself died in a duel with Burr, leaving his wife a widow for decades. Crowley was a bit wrecked by the end, the sadness opening the box of his own doubts and fears, laying them all out and scattering them, making it impossible to stuff all those feelings back in their storage.

They walked hand in hand from the theater, both immersed in their own thoughts. When Aziraphale joined him in the back seat of the car, Crowley asked, “Are you hungry, Angel? Want to go out for a bite before we head back?”

Aziraphale looked at him, noting the tension in his body and the effort it took Crowley to produce even a small smile. “No, my dear,” he said. “Let’s just get some takeaway to eat up in the room, shall we?” He squeezed Crowley’s hand, pleased to see a more confident smile in response.

“Yeah. Alright, Angel. Besides, we did have plans for after, no?” And this time Crowley’s wicked grin was back, cocky and bright.

“Plans?” Aziraphale frowned. “What plans?”

Crowley hooked his finger in his cheek and pulled it out, making a popping noise. Aziraphale sat puzzled for a moment, then remembered Crowley’s suggestion under the tree in the park and blushed beet red. Crowley chortled and settled back, dropping his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, obviously very pleased with himself.

^o0o^

Using his naan to sop up the last drops of sauce from his butter chicken, Aziraphale remained adamant that it was Alexander’s pride that had ultimately done him in, causing his fall from grace. Crowley felt his passion had been his undoing and they had been arguing about it for the last fifteen minutes. The argument was loud and vigorous, with both men gesturing wildly, trying to prove their points, but there was joy and warmth underneath it all.

Few people argued with Aziraphale nowadays and he was quite enjoying the give and take with Crowley. It reminded him of his university days when he and his mates would sit and debate the problems of the world for hours over a few pints.

“Fine!” Crowley finally sputtered, throwing up his hands. “Let’s talk about my passion then. Art. I have a painting in mind, but I would need your help.”

“My help? Whatever for? I could maybe draw you a...a...pineapple or something, but it would be shite,” Aziraphale said, finishing off his third glass of wine.

“Ehh. It would probably just need some shading. Could try it in charcoal,” Crowley said, looking sadly at his own empty glass. Three was undoubtedly enough for him if he wanted to take Aziraphale later on, but it didn’t make him not long for more now.

“But that’s not what I meant. Have you seen  _ Titanic _ ?” he asked, seemingly from out of the blue.

Aziraphale frowned. “The ship itself or the film?” he asked.

“The film, of course. I assume you haven’t traveled miles below the ocean to see the actual ship. Have you?” Thinking about it, he supposed it was possible. He wouldn’t put anything past the handsome tycoon.

“No, of course not, you daft bugger. Working hard in damp places like that would not be for me. Think of my hair. It would be a complete nightmare!” Aziraphale dipped his glass upside down over his tongue, but not a drop of the wine remained. He put the glass down with a sigh.

“I think I saw the film back long ago. I remember thinking they were quite stupid, letting Jack just drown that way instead of them both huddling on the door. It would have kept them both warmer and saved him from a useless death.”

“Yes, yes. Darwin awards for them both,” Crowley said impatiently. “But before that. Jack was an artist, yeah? And Rose asked him to draw her. Remember?”

“Oh, yes!” Aziraphale said and wobbled over to the sofa. He flopped dramatically on it, stretching out and crying, “Oh, Jack! Draw me like one of your French girls!”

Crowley laughed and walked over to the couch. “That’s it in one!” he said. “That’s how I want to draw you.”

“What?” Aziraphale said, confused. “You want to draw me like one of Jack’s French girls?”

“Yep!” Crowley said, popping the “p”. “You need something around your neck. Not a necklace, though...a...hah! Know just the thing! Stay there. ‘M be right back. Gonna take off the dress so I don’t mess it up. You. Take off your suit. Make yourself comfortable on the Sofa of Sin.” He leered cheerfully and turned to go into the bedroom.

Aziraphale wasn’t sure about the modeling thing, but the getting naked thing sounded good. Getting naked with Crowley had always been good. So he fumbled with his shoes and his tux while listening to Crowley bump around in the bedroom.

Aziraphale was hopping around trying to kick off his trousers when Crowley came back into the room. The ginger had cleaned off his makeup and taken off his gown and cincher, so he was down to his necklace, panties, stockings and garters, and his high heel shoes. Aziraphale stopped, looked him up and down and gulped.

“Need some help, Angel?” Crowley smirked. “I’m pretty much an expert when it comes to getting guys undressed.”

“Erm….I mean...uhmm”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Crowley said, setting his supplies on the side table and slinking over to the sofa. He pushed Aziraphale down with a finger to his chest and then bent in half to tug the trousers off, tossing them on the side chair with the rest of the tuxedo. “Pants now, love,” he said, licking his lips. Aziraphale quickly shoved them down and kicked them across the room, waiting for more instructions.

“Alright now. Lay down on your side, dove, and prop your head up with your hand. Now...just how naughty do I want this?”

A little whimper escaped from Aziraphale as he complied. Between Crowley being mostly naked and himself being laid out in full display for his scrutiny, he was already mostly erect. “Where...where do you want my other arm?” he managed to ask.

“Well, you could use it for a bit of modesty. If you must. I would prefer you to just lay it along the top of your side, though. Draw attention to the lovely curve of your hips. Not to mention then I get to draw you hard and gorgeous. Can you do that for me, Angel?”

Aziraphale bit his bottom lip and nodded. Flushed down to his chest, he draped his arm along his side, his hand brushing his hip.

“Oh, Angel,” Crowley breathed. “You are so fucking hot. My very own beautiful angel! One last touch.” He sank to his knees in front of the sofa and brought out Aziraphale’s favorite tartan bow tie. Crowley put it around Aziraphale’s neck and arranged the tails casually, as if he had been taking it off. The lavender and grey stripes in the tan tartan stood out brightly against the creams and pinks of Aziraphale’s pale skin. Crowley glanced down the long line of Aziraphale’s body and started to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Aziraphale demanded, looking down at his cock. Then he laughed, too. His firm phallus was still covered in lip marks, bright red ringing the base of his cock.

“May I leave it in, Angel?” Crowley asked. “It’s just for the two of us. I’d love to remember this night whenever we look at the drawing.”

“You’ll keep it hidden? Just for us?” Aziraphale wavered.

“Maybe someday I’ll paint it and we can hang it in our bedroom. If we ever have a shared bedroom, of course. Till then, it will stay in my sketchbook and be just for us. Promise.”

“Well, alright,” he said. “Get on with it then before I change my mind.”

Crowley grabbed the paper and pencil and set to work. As he drew, he asked Aziraphale, “So how did you envision your first time? Being fucked, I mean.”

To Crowley's delight, Aziraphale blushed again. "I don't think that I have. Thought about it. Much."

"Well think about it now. Fast, desperate, barely undressed just enough to get the job done? Slow, worshipful lovemaking with you laid out like a feast for me to devour? Outside under the stars? We could lay down some blankets close to the building and far from the railing. Slow and lingering or fast and hard? Tell me how to make it perfect for you, love."

Aziraphale took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Slow and worshipful lovemaking sounds wonderful. Under the stars would be lovely, but there is too much chance of being heard. I doubt I could stay quiet under your sinfully sweet hands and mouth, my darling. Perhaps another time and place. So. The bedroom. Candlelight. Soft classical music. Slow and sweet building up to hard and fast at the end. I might need you to...nail me to the mattress. I want to be a bit sore tomorrow, though no marks above my collar, please. Important business meetings all day, I’m afraid. But a bit sore when I walk or sit, just to remind me of what we did tonight? What you will do to me? That would be perfection.”

“As you wish, so shall it be, handsome. I’m almost done with the lines. I’ll add the color tomorrow whilst you are out businessing. Just need to finish with your cute little toesie-wosies, and...done!”

He stood and stretched, tossing the sketchbook back on the side table still open to the new drawing, then walked over to thank Aziraphale with a soft kiss. “You were a magnificent model,” he purred. “Now why don’t you pick out some music and I’ll go light the candles.”

“Wait a minute,” Aziraphale said. “Turn around please.” Crowley did, a bit mystified. “That’s what I thought I saw earlier!” Aziraphale said breathlessly. He reached out and stroked Crowley’s leg from the calf up. “Serpents! Winding up your long, lovely legs.”

“You like?” Crowley asked teasingly.

“Oh, yes! Yes, I like very much!”

“Too bad. I’ll have to wear them again soon so you can play with them. Tonight is all about my angel and making you feel incredible.”

Aziraphale started to pout. “No! No, bad angel!” Crowley said firmly. “No puppy dog eyes; no pouting. I will wear them again. Call it incentive to have me stick around, eh? Now let’s get this show on the road and you find the perfect music while I light some candles I have tucked away.”

______________________________

Soft music began to play...a piano and cello weaving in and out together. Crowley lit the last of the half dozen candles he had bought and blew out the match. The air filled with the scents of apples and vanilla and cinnamon...scents that reminded him of Aziraphale.

The blond entered the room shyly, still nude except for the bow tie still around his neck and the lipstick decorating his dormant cock. Crowley walked over to him and kissed him gently, enjoying the feel of his soft lips, warm under his own. He took that broad hand and led Aziraphale to the bed where the covers were turned down and waiting.

Aziraphale laid down and watched as Crowley removed his shoes and stockings slowly, making a bit of a show of it. Then he removed the necklace, placing it carefully back into its box. Crowley turned and let his eyes wander all over his lover’s body. “God, you’re beautiful, Angel,” he said softly. When Aziraphale started to protest, Crowley shushed him with a kiss, crawling onto the bed. "No protests. No denials. Just take it all, dove. Take all my love, because it's only for you.”

Crowley lowered himself to rest on Aziraphale's strong torso, wanting as much skin-to-skin contact as he could get. He ran his hands up Aziraphale's arms, gently pushing them over his head so their arms touched fully. He lifted his head and looked into those beloved eyes, shot wide with desire, only a small ring of deep stormy blue visible around his black pupils.

"Tonight is not about sex; it's about love. Sex is just the way to show you what I feel. Let me know any time if there's something else that would feel better to you. I want to give you what you need tonight."

He pressed his mouth to Aziraphale's pink lips and moaned as his angel opened to him, sweet and wet and needy. Aziraphale's hands tightened in his as his tongue explored all the little noises it could pull from his angel.

He pulled back and whispered, "Aziraphale, your hair is like the clouds at dawn, fluffy white and lit with golden light." He ruffled those curls with one hand and smiled as Aziraphale leaned into the caress.

"Your eyes are like the ocean, always changing, yet always the same. They shift color according to your moods, yet always make me feel warm and welcomed. And those crinkles when you smile! I swear someday they will slay me and I will die a happy man." He placed a gentle, reverent kiss on each lid.

"Your nose. Speaking as an artist, your nose is a nightmare to capture! Just like you, it has a mind of its own." Aziraphale chuckled and wrinkled said nose, just to listen to Crowley laugh delightedly. Crowley kissed the upturned tip and then rubbed it with his own.

"And that mouth, so innocent and pure looking. But, oh the sounds when you are eating! They go straight to my cock every time, making it very hard to care about the food when I'm thinking about putting you in my mouth instead."

Seeing as he was in the area, he went back to the kissing, growing more passionate and wild as they lingered on and on. "Fuck, Aziraphale," he gasped. "I'd love to spend all night telling you how sexy you are, but right now - "

"Show me!" Aziraphale whimpered. "Use that sinful, wicked mouth and fucking show me, Crowley!"

Crowley grinned. "As you wish, my dear." And he started working his way south, restraining himself to licks and kisses until he got to Aziraphale's chest. He took his time teasing those sweet pink nipples nestled in downy white curls. He licked and sucked and nibbled them into tiny sensitive peaks as Aziraphale writhed and panted under him.

Then he nipped his way down to his lover's soft tummy, snaking the lube from under the pillow for later. He rubbed his hands along Aziraphale's sides, gathering handfuls of softness to suck and bite on. "I love your belly, Angel. So soft and beautiful and delicious. Maybe I'll just spend all night here," he teased.

"Fiend!" Aziraphale said shakily. "You have promises to keep and I don't know how much more teasing I can take! Please, Crowley...please!"

"Awww," Crowley pouted, but scooted down so he was in between those plush thighs. "Well! What have we here? All red and hard and drippy...for me?"

"Yes! Yes! All for you! Please, please, please"...and all Aziraphale could do was whine his need. Crowley took pity on him, gently wrapping a hand around his shaft and lapping at his tip. Aziraphale's hips pushed up, frantically seeking more of Crowley's mouth. But Crowley had a bit more to say first. He gently and slowly stroked Aziraphale as he spoke.

"I'm gonna start getting you ready while I suck you, m'kay? It may feel odd, but I'll take it slow so it won't hurt at all. Just some rubbing and a bit of pressure till I work a finger inside. I've warmed up the lube next to my body, so that part should just feel nice."

Aziraphale nodded, eyes glued to Crowley's mouth. Crowley chuckled and went to work, licking and stroking Aziraphale's cock while his lube-covered fingers circled and rubbed at his rim. Aziraphale's eyes widened at first, but then all the sensations blended together. By the time Crowley pushed in to the first knuckle, Aziraphale was grinding down, trying for more. Humming around the cock bumping against his throat, Crowley pushed in deeper, thrilled when his lover cried, "Yes, Crowley! More! More! Oh, dear God, deeper!"

By the time Crowley had three fingers inside, Aziraphale had no more words. His keening grew louder as he bucked up into Crowley's mouth and back against his fingers. That changed to a disappointed whine when Crowley removed both his nimble fingers and his warm mouth.

"Just need a spot of lube on me, dove," he explained, rocking up to his knees and stroking the slickness up his cock. "Are you ready, sweetheart?" Not trusting his voice, Aziraphale nodded vigorously. "Yes. I rather think you are," Crowley said, lifting one of Aziraphale's legs up over his shoulder and lining himself up with Aziraphale's entrance.

His eyes watching Aziraphale's face for any trace of distress, Crowley smoothly slid in, keeping a steady glide until he was buried to the hilt. Aziraphale shuddered with a blissful smile, eyes trained on Crowley. The red-head smiled back, then closed his eyes to savor the tight warmth surrounding him.

Holding Aziraphale's thigh to his chest and resting his cheek on his curved calf, Crowley began to move slowly and carefully, giving Aziraphale time to adjust to the feelings.

"Oh, fuck, Crowley!" Aziraphale moaned. "Take me faster. Let me feel you pounding inside me! Make me yours!"

"Gladly, love!" And he bent them forward, one hand on the bed to support him, and the other pressing Aziraphale's thigh, opening him up so Crowley could drive deep inside, rubbing against that sweet bundle of nerves at the top of each stroke. Aziraphale's cock was trapped between the two of them and the divine friction had him crying out incoherently.

Crowley snapped his hips harder and faster, repeating "Angel, Angel" like the only prayer his heart knew. And then Aziraphale was screaming his name, spurting his warmth over them both as his body trembled and tightened, shaking from the force of his climax. Buried deep in that tightening heat, Crowley tumbled over the edge, chasing after his love as they fell together, locked in each other's arms.

After a bit, when he could trust his wobbly legs again, Crowley went and got a warm flannel to clean them off. Aziraphale was still a weak mess, unable to do much more than grin up blissfully at Crowley's touch. Crowley checked Aziraphale's mobile to make sure his alarm was set for the morning and then plugged it into the charger.

"How did I live without you?" Aziraphale mused as he pulled Crowley onto his chest, stroking his ember bright curls. Crowley sighed contentedly.

"I dunno, Angel. But I'm here for as long as you'll have me."

"Ha!" Aziraphale chortled, squeezing him tight. "I've got you now, Fiend! You just bound yourself to me for all eternity!"

"'S'that so?" Crowley said, drifting off. "Lucky fiend, me. Bound to the bestest angel of them all."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is "She Walks in Beauty As the Night" by Lord Byron.
> 
> I hope the long wait was worth it and you enjoyed their date. I had some issues to work out, mostly concerning Gabriel, but I'm good now and back in my writing groove. Let me know what you liked best about the evening. Your comments are so very important to me. Several of you checked in with me this week to let me know you were still looking forward to this chapter and it helped me work through the issues and figure out where I wanted to take the story. Lots of love to you all!


	8. Going in a Different Direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale pushed the chair back and stood, regaining his composure. "Get what over, exactly?" he asked coldly.
> 
> The lawyer sighed and rolled his lavender eyes. "The part where you scold me for hugging your boy toy last night. It's not like he hasn't done way more with plenty of other men before. I don't see why you are so bent out of shape over it."
> 
> "Well, Gabriel, you're the lawyer. You tell me." Aziraphale's eyes were as hard as arctic ice. "What is it called when a person touches another in a sexual manner and that person asks them to stop, but they persist?"
> 
> "Sexual harassment against a rent boy? You have got to be kidding me!" the tall American laughed until he took in Aziraphale's stony face. "Aw, come on, Aziraphale!" he said. "You're going to be leaving tomorrow afternoon. That'll make Crowley free-range meat again. And I'll be here to keep him in the style you've made him accustomed to. Nothing wrong with kicking the tires before you buy the car, is there?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There is physical assault and attempted rape in this chapter. It is set off with **** dividers, so if it is too hard, please just skip it. The events are summarized in legal terminology later in the chapter, so you can stay up with the plot without hurting yourself. Self care, my dears, includes skipping things that would lead you to a dark place. 
> 
> I'm so sorry, everyone. This chapter is pivotal in the film and it is pivotal here. There is no singing. The guys are apart for most of the events here. But I promise they will be together and happy in the end. And you won't have to wait a month for the next update. I wouldn't do that to you.

The morning light kept poking at his eyelids, so Crowley sighed and opened one enough to peek around. No shower noises. No singing. No Aziraphale. With an even louder sigh, the tall, lanky ginger pulled the covers over his head and rolled to his side away from the window.

He laid there for a moment with his eyes closed, enjoying the soft warmth of the bedding. Rolled toward the angel's side of the bed, he could still smell Aziraphale's cologne and he smiled dreamily. He went to cuddle Aziraphale's pillow and breathe in his scent, but there was something there on the pillow.

Curiosity accomplished what sunlight could not. He tossed off the covers and sat up, grabbing the envelope from the pillow. The paper was thick and creamy and addressed to "Anthony J Crowley Esq" in beautiful loopy cursive. It was sealed with dark green wax stamped with Aziraphale's initials.

Crowley shook his head. For a man who made his living selling old businesses to modern chains, Aziraphale could be amazingly old-fashioned. He got up and wandered out to the living room to get a letter opener from the desk. He wanted to keep the seal as intact as possible.

He grabbed the silver opener and flopped down on the sofa. The Sofa of Sin. He smiled, remembering how sexy his angel had looked last night, posing naked for him on this very sofa. He carefully slid the edge of the blade under the wax and worked it up and open. He slid the folded paper out and opened it, curious as to what Aziraphale thought he needed a letter for instead of an email or text. 

_ My dearest Crowley, _

_ The thought of being away from you today seems painful beyond bearing. I know it is only a day and our relationship is still new, but you have become an integral part of my life and time away seems simply a waste. _

_ But my business today is of utmost importance. It will lay the framework for what I hope will be a long and happy life together with you. There are big changes afoot, my darling. I’ll explain all about my plans tonight. I should be back home by 6:30. Shall we have dinner at seven? I’ll make a reservation unless you text to tell me different. I was thinking casual would be fun, as there is a local club with karaoke tonight. I know it’s a tad silly, but I would love to take you there and sing to you. It starts at nine, so we would have plenty of time for dinner first. _

_ I shall be very busy today, but if you text, I will answer at my very earliest. Perhaps you could send me a picture or two as you go about your day. I could fill my mobile with pictures of you, my love, and still long for more. Take care, beloved, and mind how you go. _

_ I have the honour to be, _

_ Your Obedient Servant, _

_ A. Fell _

Crowley sat amazed. An honest-to-goodness love letter...in this day and age! He grinned at Aziraphale’s  _ Hamilton _ reference in the signature. And then he went back and reread the letter twice more. 

Hmm. So his angel wanted pictures, eh? He grinned wickedly as he planned some shots guaranteed to keep Aziraphale missing him all day long.

^o0o^

Aziraphale spent the entire morning holed up in the conference room with a small group of lawyers. Gabriel Archer was not amongst them. He had left word with Deirdre that he would speak with Mr. Archer privately in his office at one.

His mobile had vibrated a couple of times and he longed to sneak a peek to see if the messages were from Crowley. But he maintained his composure and focused on the work at hand. The lawyers were surprised at his directions and he needed to keep everything moving and under control.

He signed the last of the paperwork around 12:15, shook hands and thanked the group for their dedication and hard work, and sat back in his chair in the empty room with a contented sigh. He had earned a short break before his one o’clock meeting with Gabriel. He swung around in the high-backed office chair so his back was toward the windowed front wall. He pulled out his mobile with a smile of anticipation and checked his messages.

Sure enough, there were three texts with images from Crowley. He wiggled happily and expanded the first.

It was a close up of Crowley blowing him a kiss, his lips bright with the lipstick he had worn the night before. The accompanying text read:  **Last night u blew me away.I have the honour to be, Your Obedient Servant, A. Crow** . He smiled at the  _ Hamilton _ reference and how that red lipstick on his member had blown him away. Sly serpent!

The second picture was titled  _ A Non-Shitty Pineapple drawn with shading in charcoal _ . Crowley's bare legs were stretched out on the sofa and the sketch pad was propped up in his lap, showing an exquisitely realistic pineapple. The hand holding the charcoal was lying on his bare belly. So what was propping up the sketch book? Aziraphale's frown of concentration gave way to a surprised blush as he realized that Crowley's dick must be holding up the book. Wiley Tempter!

He took a deep, calming breath before he moved on to the last picture. That man was going to be the death of him! The text read:  _ Wishing I was still inside u _ . The picture was focused on Crowley wearing just his black satin panties. When he tapped on the picture, Crowley's arousal was obvious, straining against the thin fabric, the entire gorgeous length of him outlined. Aziraphale couldn't resist zooming in in the shot. When he did, he could see the wet spot over the tip and felt his cock stir in response.

"Hmmm," came a voice from behind him. "Here I always figured you were the top, Aziraphale. Well, you learn something new everyday."

"Gabriel!" Aziraphale flushed, clicked his mobile off, and swirled the chair to face the smug-faced bastard. "That was private, as you well know! What are you doing here? We were scheduled to meet in my office at one!"

Gabriel smirked and shrugged his shoulder, looking down at the flustered blond. "All my ducks are in a row and I saw you hadn't left the conference room and thought we might get this over now."

Aziraphale pushed the chair back and stood, regaining his composure. "Get what over, exactly?" he asked coldly.

The lawyer sighed and rolled his lavender eyes. "The part where you scold me for hugging your boy toy last night. It's not like he hasn't done way more with plenty of other men before. I don't see why you are so bent out of shape over it."

"Well, Gabriel, you're the lawyer. You tell me." Aziraphale's eyes were as hard as arctic ice. "What is it called when a person touches another in a sexual manner and that person asks them to stop, but they persist?"

"Sexual harassment against a rent boy? You have got to be kidding me!" the tall American laughed until he took in Aziraphale's stony face. "Aw, come on, Aziraphale!" he said. "You're going to be leaving tomorrow afternoon. That'll make Crowley free-range meat again. And I'll be here to keep him in the style you've made him accustomed to. Nothing wrong with kicking the tires before you buy the car, is there?"

"That is my beloved you are demeaning!" Aziraphale roared. "Not a slab of meat! Not a possession! He's a man of creativity and wit and you will never touch him again! Are we perfectly clear?"

"Geeze! Don't get your panties in a bunch, big guy! But I haven't seen a ring on his finger and you are leaving soon. So I don't see where you have any claim to him."

Gabriel smirked, turned, and left the room whistling "Single Ladies", leaving Aziraphale fuming. Even knowing Gabriel would be whistling a different tune that afternoon, the callous disrespect the American showed filled him with anger. Aziraphale went back to his phone and called a newly-added number to discuss the problem of Gabriel. He had intended to send a loving note back to Crowley, but forgot in the white heat of anger burning at his core for the brash lawyer. The afternoon meetings were upon him before he knew it and texting would have to wait for later.

^o0o^

Crowley popped another grape in his mouth as he fussed with the finishing touches to the drawing he had made of Aziraphale the night before. The colored pencils had brought the sketch to life and he was pleased with the results. With a satisfied flourish, Crowley added his signature to the bottom and placed the open sketch book over on the work desk to show Aziraphale when he got home.

Hmm...what to do next? He needed to go pay his rent and give notice. No matter what else happens, he’s done with the rent boy life and the first step was finding someplace else to live. He’d listen to whatever Aziraphale had to tell him tonight, but in two weeks, he’d be living someplace new. He wasn’t exactly sure where yet, but definitely someplace new.

He pulled on his favorite black denims and henley and added the silver tie for a flash of color. 

Pulling his hair back into a messy bun, he cleaned off the lipstick. He put on the shades and set out, calling for a car to drop him off. He grinned as he sat in the leather backseat and thought he could get used to living like this. If it were with Aziraphale. Thinking back to his encounter with Gabriel the night before, he realized that it wasn’t the wealth or the clothes or the cars he wanted. It was just his angel, plain and simple. Stars, he hoped Aziraphale felt the same. He checked his mobile, but there was no word from his love. But Aziraphale had warned him that he would be busy. Maybe he’d have time at lunch to check out the pictures. He hoped they’d make him smile...and feel just a wee bit randy, too. 

He had the driver drop him off a few blocks from home and sauntered over to his place. No sense stirring up the neighborhood and having to spend time explaining. He had to knock three times, but eventually Jeff answered the door with a surly, “What?!”

“Hey, Jeff.” he said with a grin. “Guess who has some rent money for you?”

“‘Bout time!” Jeff grunted, motioning him into the apartment that also served as his office. “Ya know it’s fifty pounds extra because you’re late, yeah?”

“I know. It was a busy week. But it’s all there.” Crowley held out the notes and Jeff snatched them like he was afraid they’d disappear into thin air. The short, balding man gave Crowley a suspicious glare, then counted all the money twice, making sure it was correct.

“Oh,” Crowley said when he finished and tucked the notes away, “And this is my official two weeks notice. I’ll be moving out next week.”

“Ran into some money, did ya?” Jeff asked, eyeing him appraisingly. “Maybe found you a sugar daddy?”

“More like an angel,” Crowley laughed. “But I’m getting out of the business and going back to school. Guess it’s finally time for me to grow up!”

Jeff snorted at the angel comment. “Well, good luck to you, kid. If your angel feels the need to help out another poor slob, you have my address.”

“Thanks, Jeff. You never know. See ya around, yeah? I’ll bring by the key when I get everything moved out.”

Crowley went up to the apartment and spent an hour sorting through things to keep and things to toss. He gathered up a few things he thought would be useful to people he knew in the neighborhood and spent another hour walking around, giving things away and saying his goodbyes.

On the way back to the Ritz, he thought about the people he talked to that day and how some of them just needed a bit of a boost to make a better life for themselves. People like him. Maybe Aziraphale would be open to the idea of spreading a bit of judicial cash to help some of them get a new start. Maybe he could bring it up during dinner as they discussed future plans.

He checked his mobile and saw that Aziraphale had read his texts, but there was no response. Crowley bit his lip. Had he gone too far and offended his angel? He had only meant them in a funny, sexy way, but he didn’t have a lot of experience joking around with the upper crust. Maybe Aziraphale was upset with him and that was the reason for the silence. He sent a quick, “Miss you. Hope your meetings are going well.” and waited, but there was still no response. He sighed and tried not to worry.

He grabbed a light lunch and watched  _ Golden Girls _ while he ate. Then he flipped around and found  _ The Princess Bride _ and laughed and quoted along to the movie. It was only five after it finished and Aziraphale wasn’t due back for another hour and a half. There was still nothing but silence on his mobile. Crowley decided to run off his anxiety and changed into a pair of black running shorts, trainers, and a cropped black top that featured an apple and the caption, “Bite Me!” He sent Aziraphale a quick text letting him know he was going to the park to run and headed out.

He ran into Ms. Tracy in the lobby. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I promise I’m only wearing these to work out, Ms. Tracy. I’ll change into something more respectable when I get back.”

“No worries, dearie,” she said with a smile. “Non-respectable clothes have their advantages.” And she gave him a saucy wink. He grinned back and gave an extra swing to his saunter out. “Nice to see you leave, dearie!” she called after him.

^o0o^

It was a little after six before Aziraphale closed the meeting and shook everyone’s hand as they left the conference room. Mr. Shadwell hung back until last. He smiled and clapped Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Do ye have a bit of time to spare for an old man?” he asked.

“Of course, Mr. Shadwell,” the blond smiled, hiding his weariness. “Just one moment, first, please. I have a text I really must respond to.”

“Is it to your young man? That Crowley fella?” Shadwell asked with a knowing grin.

“As a matter of fact it is,” Aziraphale replied with an answering grin. “I’ve been in meetings all blasted day and haven’t had a moment to say anything to him.”

“Well, take all the time you want. That young man’s a keeper. You don’t want to be neglecting him.” Shadwell wandered back to the windows to give Aziraphale a little privacy.

_ Darling, I’m so sorry it took so long for me to send this. There’s a lot happening. All good. I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. Though those pictures rather make me want to...eat in. _

He smiled, then closed his mobile.

“Alright. How can I help you, Mr. Shadwell?”

Shadwell walked back to him and said, “Oh, you’ve already helped me, lad. You could have knocked me over with a feather when you announced there was a second option on the table. Decided to try your hand at a non-profit that builds up instead of tearing everything down, did ye?”

“Yes. I’ve made more money than one person should have to spend in a lifetime. Seemed like a good time to turn around and build up the communities. Just remember that it is a loan...very low interest, but still a loan. Jophiel Rises will also provide advice and get you in touch with professional providers to help get your shop modernized and turning a profit quickly. I plan to oversee and move into the bookshop in the near future, so I will be close by if you need any further assistance.”

“And Crowley? Will he be moving into the bookshop as well?”

Aziraphale blushed, but demurred, “That will be up to the gentleman to decide. The option will certainly be available to him.”

Shadwell clasped his arm and said, “I don’t think you need to worry about that much, laddie. He seems just as gone on you. You know, I’m not herself, of course, but I’m thinking your mother would be proud of the decisions you’ve made here.”

“Well. I guess we’ll never really know,” Aziraphale said wistfully. “I only hope Crowley is pleased. It is a far cry from my mansion to the flat over the bookshop.”

Shadwell paused and changed the subject. “Did you see the look on that wanker’s face when you fired him? That was priceless, lad!”

“Mr. Archer’s services were no longer needed and he has behaved extremely disrespectfully towards Crowley. I’m hoping he will accept the generous severance package offered him and go find another firm. Perhaps back in the States.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, lad. The way he stormed out of the meeting? He doesn’t seem the type who accepts a ‘no’ very gracefully.”

“Indeed. Well, pleasant as it has been talking to you, I have a dinner date at seven and would like to freshen up first. I will see you next week? Thursday, if that works for you. That will give my lawyers time to get all the paperwork filed and we can offer you a formal loan to update your business.”

“That will be just fine. Let me know when, and I’ll be here. Give my best to your young man.”

Aziraphale walked Shadwell out, and went to his office to get the new paperwork put away carefully. He checked his mobile, but there was nothing new from Crowley. But his last text said he was running, so he probably was showering after. It was already six-twenty, so Aziraphale called a car to get him back to the Ritz before Crowley could start to worry.

********************

About forty minutes later, Crowley burst into the room, sweaty and panting, but feeling more at ease with himself. He grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and his mobile and flopped down on the sofa. It was almost six and still nothing from Aziraphale. Well. Nothing he could do about that. He set down his mobile and finished off the water. Then he stripped down for a shower to clean up for dinner. Which was hopefully still a thing.

Despite that little nag of worry, Crowley felt great after he got out and started drying off. The run had felt great and was just what he needed. He slipped on a pair of his black silk boxers and was toweling off his hair when he heard a knock at the room door. Aziraphale! He must have forgotten his key card that morning. Glancing at his mobile as he walked by, he saw it was just after six. The blond must have finished early and rushed home...err, back to the room. Crowley hurried and opened the door

As soon as the door was cracked, the door was slammed open, pushing Crowley back as a large grey storm cloud of a man stomped into the room.

"Gabriel? What are you doing here?" Crowley sputtered, all too aware of his state of undress.

Gabriel whirled and shouted at Crowley. "Where is he? Where is that fat little blond pip squeak?" He stalked back toward Crowley and slammed the door shut.

"Do you know what he did today? Do you?!"

Crowley stood his ground and shook his head, keeping a cautious eye on the furious American.

"Well let me clue you in," Gabriel snarled. "He is dismantling Fell Enterprises! Millions of pounds of potential contracts and he's just giving it all away! He's starting some ridiculous nonprofit instead! And. AND. He told me, 'Um, how can I say this? "You're being let go." "You're part of an outplacement." "We're going in a different direction." "We're not picking up your option." Take your pick. I've got plenty more."

"I don't know what happened today, Gabriel, but Aziraphale is not home yet. I'm going to have to ask you to wait in the hall until he returns,” Crowley said as firmly as he could manage. He felt at a large disadvantage against the taller bundle of seething anger.

Gabriel stopped and stood very still, looking Crowley up and down like he hadn't really seen him before through his rage. "Oh, you sweet thing," he said with an evil chuckle, " we both know that's not going to happen, is it?"

Crowley quickly moved around Gabriel so he wasn't against the door and he had more room behind him. He stopped by the work desk. "If you don't leave, I'll call security!" he warned, his hand reaching for the room phone.

"Oh, I don't think so, Sunshine!" Gabriel quickly closed the gap and brought his fist down hard on Crowley's outstretched hand, slamming it roughly to the desk. Crowley screamed at the unexpected pain and Gabriel smirked in vicious satisfaction. Then something caught his eye. "Holy fuck, what have we here?" he chortled, grabbing up Crowley's sketch book opened to the drawing of Aziraphale. He pulled out his phone and took a snapshot of it.

"Gabriel! That's mine and it's private! Delete it right now!" Crowley demanded, his injured left hand cradled in his right.

"Private? Ha!" the dark-haired man crowed. "I'm going to visit the Mirror tomorrow and give them an exclusive about Fell and his rent boy, complete with nude drawings. Don't suppose you'd care to slip out of those boxers and give us a nice companion shot?"

Crowley started backing up towards the den. The pain in his hand made it hard to focus. Fast as a viper, Gabriel tossed his phone and the pad on the desk and then pinned the red-head to the wall, holding both his thin wrists in one beefy palm over his head.

"Maybe you could use that pretty mouth to persuade me not to share, eh?" he whispered, sticking his other hand down the back of his briefs and groping Crowley's bare cheeks. Crowley glared at him and spit in his face. Gabriel released him to wipe it off and Crowley turned to run to the bathroom.

"You little shit!" Gabriel yelled, and backhanded him hard across the cheek. The lawyer's ring sliced his skin and the force of the blow knocked Crowley's head into the wall. He slumped down to the floor, dazed and bleeding.

Gabriel snarled, "I think you need a lesson in how to treat your betters, boy!" He unbuckled his belt and undid his fly, letting his trousers pool around his ankles as he loomed over his prey. Crowley just closed his eyes and hoped it would be over quickly.

^o0o^

Aziraphale's hand froze as he inserted the key card into the lock. He was already worried since Adam had told him about the tall, angry American man who had gone up to their rooms fifteen or so minutes prior. He feared what the man would say to Crowley. But, inserting the key, he heard flesh hitting flesh and a loud thunk against the wall, and his blood ran cold with fright for his love.

He pulled out his mobile and thumbed on the video camera as Harriet had advised him, and took a deep breath as he opened the door. He started filming and hoped his hand wasn't shaking too much as he stared in horror at the scene before him. Crowley was a crumpled heap wearing just his boxers and Gabriel loomed over him, his trousers pooled at his ankles.

"Gabriel Archer, I would advise you to desist and step back away from Crowley this instant," he said in an eerily calm voice. Points for him, since what he wanted to do was tear the man limb from limb.

TGabriel paused for a moment, then chuckled as he shoved down his pants. "Aziraphale!" he boomed in his falsely friendly bravado, "so nice you could join the party for the main event. I'm going to rail your boy here, right Crowley?" He reached down and yanked on Crowley's hair, tilting his head up to face him. Aziraphale saw blood dripping from his high cheekbone and he saw red himself. Crowley groaned and whispered, "Get out, Angel. Save yourself."

"Oh, I quite think not!" He tucked his mobile in his pocket, still recording, and started towards the pair.

"Stop right there, Aziraphale. Or I'll break his pretty face!" Gabriel drew back his fist, maintaining his grip in Crowley's hair.

"I think I should warn you that this is all being recorded. You should stop now before you make things worse for yourself." Aziraphale stated firmly and clearly, breathing an inner sigh of relief when Gabriel dropped his hands and whirled to face him.

"After this afternoon, do you think I give a fuck, Aziraphale? I worked for you for six years! You've known this tramp for six days and you fire me over him? Well, payback can be a bitch!"

Aziraphale caught movement behind Gabriel while he ranted, and kept his eyes fastened to the deep purple ones, praying Crowley would make his escape to the bedroom. He should have known better.

"Oi, you bloody great cockswaddle!" Crowley shouted, back on his feet again. Gabriel turned back, Crowley swung with determination, and when his fist hit Gabriel's chin, the big man crumbled like a dry shortbread.

Crowley sank back to the floor, but put up his hand to stop Aziraphale. "Angel," he said. "Gabriel's mobile is on the desk. Throw it. Off the balcony. Hurry!"

Aziraphale hesitated a moment, then grabbed the cell phone and rushed it out the French doors. Without giving himself time to think, he hurled the mobile over the edge and watched its downward flight until it hit the pavement and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Then he shuddered and went back inside closing the doors after him.

Gabriel was groaning, starting to come to, and Aziraphale headed over to Crowley, only to be stopped again. "Sketch pad," Crowley said with a weary grin. "Get it into a drawer quick."

Aziraphale was puzzled until he picked up the pad and then his eyes flew wide. Crowley giggled. "It came out rather well, I thought," he said softly.

"Indeed," said Aziraphale. "But security should be here anytime now, so I'll admire it later." He rushed to the bathroom, tucked the book away, and grabbed a hotel robe for Crowley. Gabriel was sitting up, groaning and holding his jaw, when he got back and Crowley had scuttled farther down the wall to put more distance between them. He was helping Crowley get his sore hand through the sleeve of the robe when there was a knock on the door.

"Security! Do you need assistance, Mr. Fell?"

"In here, people!" Aziraphale shouted back, settling the robe around Crowley. Gabriel just sat and glared at the pair of them, rubbing his jaw.

********************

Things were a bit blurry as the adrenaline left and the pain took over his body. Aziraphale was there, and that made him feel safe. But his angel said not to move until the medic got there, so he just rested his aching head on Aziraphale's shoulder. Ms. Tracy had followed the security team in and had called for a medic as the others had got Gabriel put back together and sulking in the armchair.

Soon there was another man, shining a light in his eyes, cleaning his cheek and using surgical glue on the cut, and giving him a bag of ice on which to rest his sore hand. The medic and Aziraphale helped him over to the sofa, where he drank some water and took some ibuprofen to reduce the swelling and pain. The doctor gave them an adjustable brace, telling them that Crowley would need to keep it on day and night for the weekend.

“Keep your hand dry and no...vigorous activities for the next few days, either,” the doctor admonished with a grin. He left his business card in case Crowley started feeling worse. He shook Aziraphale’s hand and bowed to Ms. Tracy and the security team before making his exit.

Aziraphale showed Ms.Tracy the videos and audio on his mobile, proving Gabriel's actions. Gabriel insisted on showing them the picture on his phone and threw a fit when he realized it was missing. Aziraphale called Gabriel’s mobile, but there was no answer from the American's and Gabriel was beside himself.

There was a lot of yelling on Gabriel's side of things, but it died down when Ms. Tracy asked whether Crowley wanted to press charges for assault and attempted rape. Crowley didn't know what to say, so he just looked at Aziraphale.

"Well," Aziraphale said, "that rather depends on Mr. Archer. I have an offer for you, Archer. It's a one time deal and ends when you leave the room. As you have seen, we have reliable witnesses, audio and videos of your actions."

"If you allow it to go to court, it will be a sensational case. You could be disbarred and spend time in jail. It would be expensive and time-consuming."

"So here is an alternative. I have spoken at length with the American ambassador and they have agreed to your speedy deportation. Remember the young woman you spoke so rudely to in line at  _ Hamilton _ ? The one you told to ‘butt out’? Unfortunately for you, that was Harriet Dowling, the ambassador's wife. She doesn't like you and was happy to be of assistance.”

“You will return to the States by the end of the month and never contact Crowley or myself again. We want you gone. If there any whispers of impropriety in your future conduct, I will lend my aid to ensure you are prosecuted."

"Oh. One more thing. You will sell your Bentley to Crowley for a pound. I have the bill of sale ready here. All you need do is sign it, receive your pound, and hand over the keys. I will call a car to return you home."

Crowley looked up and stared at Aziraphale, his jaw dropping in surprise. Gabriel had been sitting quietly, glaring at the blond businessman...until this.

"What?!! There is no way I'm giving my Bentley to a.…" He looked around at the stern faces watching him and gathered some control. "I am not giving my Bentley to him!" he finished with a sputter.

"Quite correct," Aziraphale said primly. "You will  _ sell _ it to Mr. Crowley for a pound. It's this or face charges. You weren't going to ship it across the pond anyway and your severance package will be more than sufficient to get you settled in the States again. What is that delightful American expression? Oh yes. 'Payback is a bitch.'" He sat back with a smug smile and put his arm around Crowley, drawing him in snug, and waited for Gabriel's response.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale in awe. He'd never seen this side of him...the fierce businessman, taking no quarters. He was rather thrilled and snuggled closer, giving Gabriel a smug little smirk of his own.

Gabriel yelled and protested and apologized and ranted, but Aziraphale sat stone-faced throughout, giving not an inch. Finally, Gabriel gave in, signing the bill of sale angrily and holding out the keys to his former friend.

"Oh, no," Aziraphale said with a small smile. "Those don't belong to me."

With an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes, Gabriel thrust them out to Crowley. The red-head picked them up, carefully avoiding any contact with the man who had assaulted him. Once he had them, though, he kissed Aziraphale's cheek and whispered, "thank you, handsome."

Aziraphale beamed at him and stroked his uninjured cheek. "You are most welcome, darling." Gabriel growled and sat back in his seat with a huff.

There were more words said, but Crowley no longer cared. He melted into his partner's side, holding the keys to the flashiest car he had ever seen, and felt safe, protected and loved.

Finally, Gabriel was escorted out by Ms. Tracy and team, and he was finally alone with Aziraphale.

"Darling, I am so sorry! I never imagined Archer would take it so far...would actually hurt you. Can you ever forgive me?" Aziraphale sank to his knees in front of Crowley, hands on his knees and heart in his eyes.

"Forgive you?" the red-head scoffed, running his hand through Aziraphale's soft blond curls. "For what? Saving me? Getting rid of Sir Scumbag? Giving me a fucking Bentley?! Nope. Never forgive you." And he rolled his eyes.

"Just get up here and hold me, Angel. That's all I need. All I ever needed, really. Though we've missed that dinner reservation, so I guess maybe we should order some food?"

"How about some pasta? Soft, warm cheesy goodness?"

"Sounds good, handsome. Why don't you order it and then come snuggle and tell me about your day? I didn't really understand what Gabriel was going on about, but it certainly sounded eventful."

Aziraphale chuckled wryly. "Eventful. Yes, I would say that was an appropriate word choice." He called down their dinner order and came back to the sofa.

“Take some layers off and get comfortable, Angel. Maybe grab a throw and I can take off the robe.”

“Hmm. Maybe you could help me off with some layers? Whatever you’re comfortable with?” Aziraphale countered.

Crowley grinned as Aziraphale sat near him with a happy wiggle. He undid his bowtie with his good hand and tossed it on the chair. The suit coat quickly followed. Crowley tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, but couldn’t quite manage them with just one hand. Aziraphale grinned and undid the top three himself and Crowley pressed a kiss into the pale blond curls on his chest. It stung a little, but not enough that he wanted to stop. Still, he drew back and looked into those blue eyes, deepening to grey. “Hey. Roll up your sleeves? You look so damn sexy when you do that. Makes me go all tingly!”

Aziraphale smiled and slowly undid his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. His eyes never wavered from the amber ones watching him so intently. Crowley bit his lip as he watched. Such a simple thing, but, oh how it turned him on. Those strong forearms dusted in gold just did things to him. He shivered and moved in for a kiss. Aziraphale kept it soft, but a little sting crept through anyway...just enough to be enticing. Crowley wanted more, but Aziraphale pulled back, chuckling as the ginger chased the kiss, whining softly.

“Let’s wait and see how you’re doing after dinner, darling,” he said gently. “We don’t want you to start bleeding again. Let me go get that throw, and I’ll tell you all about my day until the food arrives.” Crowley tried pouting, but it hurt, so he stopped and put his head back against the sofa as his love went to the bedroom for the blanket.

Once they were all snuggled in, Aziraphale told him about his plans to finish with current contracts and then dismantle Fell Enterprises. He told the tale of how satisfying it had been to fire Gabriel.

His new nonprofit would supply small business loans, advice and assistance to individually owned shops that needed updating to stay competitive. Shops like Shadwell's Toy Box would be the type they would help flourish.

"What's it to be called then, this new venture? Angel Enterprises?"

Aziraphale chuckled. "No, I named it after that which is dearest to my heart. Jophiel Rises." He watched Crowley's face in anticipation.

It was worth the wait, seeing surprise give way to a blush and a cocky grin. "Named it after me, eh?"

Aziraphale kissed his forehead and brushed his coppery curls behind his ear. "I said I named it after what's dearest to my heart, didn't I?"

Then the grin disappeared and a frown took its place. "How did you know my middle name," Crowley asked. "You were still guessing last night and I'm pretty sure I didn't mutter it in my sleep."

Just then, there was a knock on the door as room service arrived with their dinner. Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps Crowley would be distracted by the meal and forget about the name guessing game.

Crowley stayed on the couch with his hand on the ice pack while Aziraphale helped the waiter set things up for dinner. When the waiter left, he stood up and wobbled over to the table covered in the throw and refused Aziraphale's offer of a steadying arm with just a shake of his head. He didn't even look up when Aziraphale moaned his appreciation of the first bite of stuffed shells. The silence was unbearable and Aziraphale quickly broke.

'All right. I've known your middle name since our second day together," he admitted, looking with great interest at his plate. "You must understand, darling. I am very well off and needed to do a basic background check before I asked you to stay with me for the week.” He lifted his head and his blue eyes pleaded for Crowley to understand. “I didn't know you then and had to be careful."

"So you were just playing with me? A bit of a game with the foolish rent boy?" Crowley asked quietly.

"No! Of course not!" Aziraphale protested. "Well. Perhaps a bit of a silly game. You always light up when I get it wrong and I...I really like seeing you light up. I'm sorry it's upset you. That I upset you."

Crowley played with his food a bit, not really eating any. Finally, he set his fork down and sighed. "Aziraphale, there’s more. Gabriel said something to me yesterday while he groped me. Maybe you can explain it?"

"I'll do my best, my dear. I can guarantee that, whatever he said, his aim was to wind you up and make you doubt my feelings for you."

"Hmm," Crowley said noncommittally. "He said you had asked Deirdre to send a car for one to take you back to Wales tomorrow. So. I'm to stay here then? Well, not here here...not at the Ritz. But in Soho?"

Aziraphale sighed. "Yes, I did indeed order a car for one." He put a hand on Crowley's arm as he started to leave the table. "Please hear me out, my dear."

"It's more of a billing term than a descriptor, which Archer knew. We have two different ways to bill vehicles at Fell Enterprises: a limo, for four or more people or special occasions; and a car for one, which is a town car that can seat up to three more people in addition to the driver. I didn't specify how many people would be traveling because it seemed presumptuous to include you before I even invited you to my house. I intended to ask you after  _ Hamilton _ . But when we got home, I got distracted. You are a most delectable distraction, my dear," he smiled.

Crowley didn't smile back. "You lie to me and call it a game. You make plans that affect us both and only explain them to me if I call you on them. Doesn't feel much like a partnership to me, Aziraphale."

"When I was little and made Mum mad, which was pretty often, she would lock me in a closet and make me stay there, literally in the dark, for hours. I would make up stories of a handsome prince who would ride up, colors flying, on a white horse, and rescue me, bringing me out into the light."

"I don't want to be kept in the dark. I don't want to be  _ kept _ at all. I want to be freed!"

"Freed? Do you mean you wish to be freed from me as well? You have the money to make it on your own now, I suppose. But - " his voice faltered. He looked down to gather himself and looked directly into Crowley's sweet golden eyes. " - but I would prefer we make a new life together. I know this has happened incredibly fast. And I see now I've made mistakes. I never meant to keep you in the dark. I just wanted to take care of all the legal work and make sure it was doable before I told you. Please give me a chance. A chance to fix this. A chance to learn to be open and honest."

"I've never had a person I could be honest with before. My mother refused to accept my sexual orientation, so I hid my real self for decades. The business I was in required me to play my cards close to my chest. Michael wanted the money and the status of being with me, but cheated on me and made a mockery of me in the press. I have no real friends; only business associates."

"So if I'm bad at being honest and open, it's due to lack of practice, not desire. But I've been more honest with you than anyone else ever. Teach me how to do better, Crowley. I can’t stand to lose you. Please."

Tears filled honey brown eyes and threatened to spill over. "I had you destroy Gabriel's mobile for a reason, Aziraphale," he finally said. "He had spotted the drawing and took a pic of it, saying he would take it and the story of you and your rent boy to the papers. We stopped him today, but it eventually will come out. All the sordid details of my life. It will ruin you and all you've built up. I'll get you dirty and...and you'll fall. Just like you've always feared. I can't let that happen to you. I won't!"

"You know I don't care about that," Aziraphale said. “I’m not ashamed of you or what you did. I’ll take an interview myself and talk about it if it will put you at ease. We can work on all these things. But..it almost seems like you're looking for reasons to leave me. If that's what you really want, so be it. Stay here in Soho. But know that it is not what I want. I want you to come with me and be with me always. I missed you so much today, my dear. I can’t imagine my life without you."

“Yeah. You missed me so much, you didn’t send a single text. Were you upset with the pictures I sent you? I wanted them to be fun and sexy, but...I know you saw them, but you didn’t say anything.”

“Ah. That would be Gabriel again, I’m afraid. He snuck into the conference room and saw your last text. He made a rude comment about our sexual relationship. Then he disparaged you. And that I couldn’t abide. I might have yelled at him. Possibly. I called Ms. Dowling and started the wheels in motion for Archer’s deportation. By the time I was finished, it was time to go to my afternoon meetings. I’m so sorry, Crowley. I loved your pictures. I did text you when I finished my meetings, but you must have been in your shower.”

“And then Gabriel came. I haven’t had a chance to look at my mobile since then. So I guess that one was just me being oversensitive.”

“I wouldn’t say that, my dear. We are still finding our way with each other. We’re bound to make mistakes. I will try to be more attuned to your needs and more open and forthcoming about my plans. And maybe you could trust a little more in me and believe I truly do love you?”

“Don’t see why,” Crowley grumped, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah. Alright. We both have things to work on. But I just don’t know if I can believe that someone as good as you can love someone like me. After the glow wears off, will you still want me? Or is it just the mind-blowing sex?”

“Come with me to Wales, and you’ll find out. No ‘vigorous exercise’ for the next few days, remember? I will indeed miss the mind-blowing sex, but it will give us time to talk and learn all about each other. I must confess, I am quite looking forward to that.” And, to Crowley’s great surprise, not only did he beam, but gave one of his happy wiggles, too.

"So now I am asking you, darling. Plain and simple. I am returning to Wales tomorrow and I would like you to accompany me. It would just be for the weekend and then I, and hopefully we, will be coming back to London for the next week. There is much to be done to make Jophiel Rises a real entity. I have more to tell you about my future plans, but I guess that will wait for your decision whether or not to join me in that future."

"I love you, Crowley. This is not an ultimatum. If you decide to stay here this weekend and rejoin me next week when I return, I will welcome you with open arms. I know what I want, and that’s you. But perhaps you need more time. Most people would. My heart is screaming at me to beg you to come with me. But I want you to be happy, more than anything. So this is  _ your _ choice. Will you come with me to Wales this weekend? Will you give me another chance?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me in the comments. I won't tell you what's happening next, but I will give what solace I can. Thank you all for riding along with me on this journey and being so kind and loving. Hang in there with me and we can all make it through to their happy ending.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing in an alternate universe and I really enjoyed it. Thanks to the GO RomCom Event for letting me have such a delightful writing experience. As always, I love to hear your comments and kudos give me strength. I'll be updating weekly.


End file.
